#9 Inch display

[kayhanaudio2]

Kayhan Audio SatNav for the Hyundai Sonata 2018 V6 features a sleek 9-inch touchscreen, offering GPS navigation with real-time traffic updates. It includes Bluetooth, USB, and Wi-Fi connectivity for seamless media streaming, hands-free calling, and app access. With a high-resolution display and user-friendly interface, it enhances your driving experience with modern convenience and style. Website:

https://kayhanaudio.com.au/product/satnav-for-hyundai-sonata-2018-9-inch/

[short-for-jules]

VERY rough concept for a 3d modeled statue of Herbert West, just watched re-animator and it did something to me. Ive wanted to make and sell fan statues for awhile and this really lit a fire under my ass, but before i spend the next Several Weeks working on this it would help my motivation a lot if i got a vibe there are people in the world who would pay money for this lol.

I'm not sure how much it will be, since I'll likely be going through a POD provider since posting stl files online freaks me out, so final price will come up to how much production costs, but the ideal price rang is 20-40$ USD, with as minimal up-charge as i can allow myself. fans w disposable income tell me any and all thoughts <3

[fingertipsmp3]

I should neverrr have accepted this shift. Literally every problem I have would be irrelevant if I didn’t have to go to work today

[caraudioexpertaustralia0]

Headunit With Carplay For HONDA CIVIC 2012 HIGH | 9INCH

[sugugasm]

“YES MA’AM? . . MORE LIKE YES MOMMY ! ” | jjk + aot

⟡ tags : sukuna + toji + gojo + nanami — a compilation of your favs and how they submit to you . . . content includes positions such as rimming, begging, thigh humping, handjob, blowjob, overstim??, size kink, bondage, pet names used ‘bby, pretty boy, mommy,’ etc. MDNI 19+ 8.0K WC

SUKUNA | bondage + slight handjob + cunninlingus

“oi, princess — gonna’ sit there all night or get this shit over with already?” sukuna questions you, who’s sitting rather delightfully for someone who knew damn well they were in a work of trouble after all this was over with, and as much as he would’ve loved to be the one to end this little power trip you were on, there were some . . obstacles in the way.

to name a few of those said obstacles : the infamous king was currently in a little bit of a knot, muscles on display as his usual mischievous smirk was now being replaced by a rather adorable scowl. his strong arms were bound behind his back, ropes digging into his skin all over — and oh! his thick dick, around 9-ish inches, standing proud and tall against his stomach, thumping every time you came near him. you knew he hated this - more than anything, but to see him surrendering, succumbing to you and only you . .

it was definitely something you’d take a few extra spanks to the ass for later.

“my, my . . don’t go gettin’ all bossy on me, kuna. are you forgetting who’s in charge?” you whisper near his ear, moving a hand to stroke his shaft slowly. you were like a shark scenting blood in water the way your hand began to move in circles, “look at you . .”

his eyes flashed with indignation even as his cock jumped at your words, flushed and leaking against his chiseled abdomen. ��i should tear you from limb to limb for this — just for the fun of it, really.”

you chuckled darkly, fisting a hand in his hair and yanking his head back. “you should . . but you won’t. right? because deep down, you want to submit to me, don’t you, sukuna? wanna’ be brought to heel, made to beg and plead for release . .”

he snarled wordlessly but didn't deny it, straining against his bonds. you could see the conflict in his eyes, immense pride warring with dark, forbidden desire. slowly, testing, you trailed your fingers down his heaving chest, once again skimming teasingly light over his throbbing erection. he twitched, a strangled groan escaping through his gritted teeth. “just give in,” you coaxed silkily, cupping his heavy sack, rolling it in your palm. “surrender to me and i’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever imagined . .”

he glared up at you from the chair, mutinously but you could feel his resolve crumbling. grinding his jaw, he gave a single, jerky nod. triumph and dark arousal surged through you. the king of curses, deadly and proud, was yours to command.

unhurriedly, you stripped off your thin robe and kicked it aside. his corvine eyes raked over your bare form, pupils blown with lust. “open,” you instructed, stepping close and fisting his hair again. obediently, he parted his lips, letting you guide his face to your aching center.

the first hot swipe of his tongue between your folds made you gasp and shudder. he lapped at you again, more firmly, clearly savoring your taste. “that’s it,” you praised breathlessly, grinding against his face. “finally put that mouth to good use, make me drip all over you, yeah?”

he snarled into your cunt, tongue delving deeper, flicking over your throbbing clit. you keened, yanking at his hair as shocks of pleasure radiated through you. he licked and sucked voraciously, making obscene wet sounds as he ate you out. the fact that he was just about on his damn knees, servicing you, nearly undid you all on its own. “f-fuck, kuna,” you whined, head thrown back as he tongue-fucked your entrance, rubbing his nose against your clit. “jus’ like that, don’t stop, gonna’ c-cum, baby . .”

he moaned into you, doubling his efforts, devouring your cunt like a man starved. your thighs shook, stomach tightening as you hurtled towards your peak. you felt his teeth graze your clit and you shattered with a sharp cry, gushing into his eager mouth as you came — and he lapped up every drop, working you through the aftershocks until you had to push his head away, too sensitive. panting, you looked down at him, taking in his glossy, slick chin and wild, feverish eyes. “such a good boy,” you purred, thumbing over his wet, swollen lips. “i think you’ve earned a reward . .”

TOJI | blowjob + handcuffs lol :3

“color?” you checked as you finished securing toji’s cuffs to the headboard, sitting back to survey your handiwork.

“green,” he rasped immediately, testing the bonds. they held fast, keeping him splayed beneath you, entirely at your mercy. “very fuckin’ green.”

you smiled, trailing light fingers down his chest, teasing his dusky nipples. “good. y’know what to say if it gets to be too much.”

he shook his head stubbornly even as he arched into your touch with a bitten-off groan. “won’t need to. i can take anything you dish out.”

“mhmm, we’ll see about that,” you mused, pinching and tugging at his sensitive nubs until he was writhing. “by the time m’ done, you’ll be all fucked out.”

he shuddered, cock twitching where it lay thick and flushed against his abs, leaking steadily. “do your worst, sweetheart,” he goaded, eyes sparking challenge. grinning fiercely, you set about taking him apart with hands and mouth, mapping every ridge and valley of his powerful body. you traced the v cut of his hips with your tongue, mouthed teasingly at his inner thighs, ghosted hot breath over his aching cock. he cursed and bucked beneath you, muscles bunching and straining uselessly against the metal cuffs as you worked him into a frenzy.

“oh god . . fuck, [ ★ ], please,” he finally burst out as you lapped kitten-ishly at his weeping cockhead. “s-stop teasin’ me, baby!”

“i told you you’d beg, didn’t i?” you asked smugly, swirling your tongue around his throbbing cock. “ask me nicely for what you want, toji. maybe i’ll give it to you . .”

he threw his head back with a tortured groan, tendons standing out in stark relief as he fought his body's demands. “please,” he grated out. “please suck my cock. i need your mouth on me so bad —” you cut him off by swallowing him down to the hilt in one swift motion, nose nestling in his wiry curls. “a-agh, fuck!” he shouted, hips jerking instinctively, trying to fuck into your tight, wet throat. you held his bucking hips down easily, working him hard and fast, just the way he liked.

“fuck, baby, y-yes,” he babbled, head thrashing on the pillow. “god, your mouth, so fuckin’ good t’me . . m’not gonna’ last like this.”

you pulled off long enough to rasp out, “then don’t. i want to taste you, want you to come for me,” before sinking back down on him, humming around his thickness. toji cried out brokenly as his orgasm crashed into him, pulsing hot and bitter over your tongue. you worked him through it greedily, milking him until he was twitching and gasping from the intensity. when you finally released him, he was flushed and glassy - eyed, chest heaving as he came down.

“told you i could take it,” he slurred, a loopy half-smile tugging at his lips.

“aww, baby,” you whispered wickedly, crawling up his body to hover over him. “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

SATORU | rimming + toru calls you mommy

“tell me what you want,” you murmured as you trailed open-mouthed kisses down satoru’s quivering tummy, fingertips skimming teasingly light over his trembling inner thighs. “i’ll give you anything, everything, jus’ tell me . .”

he whined low in his throat, hips canting up needily as you breathed hot over his rigid cock, lips a mere whisper from his fevered skin. “please, [★], i need . .” he babbled, voice high and thready with desperation. “i need you inside me, opening me up, fucking m-me deep. please, please, please . .”

“shhh, i’ve got you love,” you soothed, pressing a kiss to his dripping cockhead even as you circled a slick finger around his fluttering rim. “jus’ relax for me, let me take care of you, honey.” — and he did, head lolling back and thighs falling open wantonly as you carefully breached him, sinking your finger into his clutching hole. he was so soft and smooth inside, muscles gripping your digit hungrily as you started a gentle in and out rhythm.

his cock twitched and leaked against his belly, untouched, as you worked him open reverently, carefully adding a second finger when he was pliant enough. he moaned brokenly, bearing down on the stretch and burn, greedy for more. “y-yes, like that,” he panted, hands fisting in the sheets. “fuck, it feels so good, mommy . .”

“i know, i know . . you’re such a good boy, huh? letting me touch you like this, letting me relax you,” you coo, and on that note, you twisted your wrist, crooking your fingers just right, and satoru jolted like he’d been nearly electrocuted, a ragged shout tearing from his throat.

“t-there!” he cried out, back arching clear off the mattress. “oh fuck, [★], right there, please!” you aimed for that spot mercilessly, milking his prostate with every push and pull of your hand. he was babbling wordlessly now, head thrashing on the pillow, legs shaking and stomach muscles fluttering as his pleasure mounted.

you knew he was close when his cock started to twitch and jerk against his belly, drooling copiously. anticipation coiled hot and tight in your gut as you fingered him faster, pressing hard on that secret bundle of nerves. “c’mon, toru,” you coaxed breathlessly, transfixed by the erotic sight of him. “let go for me, cum on mommy’s fingers.”

satoru does as he’s told, back bowing nearly in half as his orgasm ripped through him with a strangled cry of your name. hot ropes of pearly cum striped his chest and abs as he pulsed and clenched rhythmically around your fingers, milking them for all he was worth. you gentled him through the aftershocks, drawing out his pleasure until he was boneless and trembling, floating in post orgasmic bliss.

slowly, you withdrew your fingers, ignoring his whimper of loss. “you did so well,” you praised, kissing his slack, parted lips. “my perfect boy. think you can get it up for me one more time? wanna’ feel it splitting me open . .”

NANAMI | face sitting + he rides your thigh

nanami knelt naked and trembling, lean muscles pulled taut in anticipation as he waited for your next command. his hard, flushed cock jutted proudly from between his powerful thighs, dripping steadily onto the carpet. you’d been teasing him for what felt like hours, keeping him on a razor’s edge of pleasure and pain, never quite letting him find relief in any way at all.

“baby,” he finally rasped, voice scraped raw from begging. “please, [★], i need you.”

“mm-mm, tell me, kento,” you demanded, pacing around his kneeling form slowly. “tell me exactly what you need.”

he shuddered bodily, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “i-i need to cum, please, i’ll do anything, just let me cum — i can’t take anymore . .”

“hmmm.” you pretended to consider, though arousal simmered molten in your veins at his desperate plea. “you beg so pretty, baby. maybe . . maybe you’ve earned it, whaddo’ya say?”

“y-yeah, yes, yes,” he babbled, hope and relief suffusing his handsome face. “i’ll be so good for you, i swear, just tell me what you want from me -”

“your mouth,” you interrupted, fisting a hand in his hair and tugging his head back, baring the strong column of his throat. “i wanna’ ride your face til’ i cum, paint you in me. and if you do a good job, i’ll let you hump my thigh like the desperate slut you are until you make a mess all over both of us. how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed, pupils blown wide and dark with need. “anything, i want to taste you, wanna’ be soaked in you, sweetheart . .” you didn’t need to hear much further, moaning low in your throat, you sank down fully, your fingers weaving into his thick hair as smothered his face between your thighs. he immediately sealed his hot mouth over your dripping sex, lapping at you broad and greedy. you cried out sharply, hips rocking into the perfect pressure, luxuriating in the wet sounds of his enthusiasm.

he licked deep into your core, nose nudging your throbbing clit, hitting all your most sensitive spots with unerring accuracy. familiar heat started coiling deep in your belly as he worked you relentlessly, taking you apart with lips and tongue and just a hint of teeth.

“oh fuck, kento, s’ s’good . .” you gasped, grinding shamelessly against his face, chasing your pleasure. “you’re s’good for me, so perfect — m’getting close!”

he groaned into your cunt, doubling his efforts, tongue fluttering hummingbird-quick over your clit as he finger fucked your hungry cunt. your thighs quaked, pressure building to an impossible crescendo deep inside. you were already just seconds from shattering apart. then he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your vision white out as he sucked hard on your aching nub, and you were gone. completely gone. back arching, breath seizing, you came with a hoarse cry, gushing slick over his face and fingers as exquisite pleasure crashed through you in relentless waves.

he worked you through it, drawing out your peak until you were too sensitive and had to push him away weakly. panting, you looked down at him, his chin and cheeks glazed with your essence, eyes fever-bright as he stared up at you in awe. “was that - was i good?” he croaked, lips and chin shiny with your juices.

“so good,” you assured him, thumbing over his swollen mouth before bringing your slick fingers to your own lips for an indulgent taste. “now come here and take what you need. you've earned it.”

groaning brokenly, he surged up to wrap his arms around your hips desperately, rutting his painfully hard cock against your thigh. you held him steady as he took his pleasure, hips snapping frantically, chasing his long-awaited release.

“that’s it, kento,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his sweaty hair as he panted and mewled into your neck. “fuck my thigh just like that, get it all wet n’ filthy with your cum . .”

his broken sob was muffled against your throat as he finally let go, pulsing hot and messy between your bodies as he came completely untouched. you gentled him through it, murmuring praise and reassurance as he shook and gasped and clutched you like a lifeline.

after long moments, he gradually calmed, breath evening out. you continued to stroke his hair, his back, holding him close in the warm afterglow.

“you did so well, sweet boy,” you murmured into his hair. “took everything i gave you so beautifully. m’ so proud of you.”

he whimpered quietly, nuzzling into your neck. “thank you,” he rasped. “for letting me be good for you. i needed that so much.”

“i know baby.” you pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “you’re always s’good for me. my perfect, pretty boy. now let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. want me to hold you?”

he nodded against your skin, clinging tighter. you smiled, heart full to bursting with affection. seeing him like this - open, vulnerable, trusting you so implicitly - was a gift you’d never stop being grateful for, and one that’d never stop giving.

“i got you, ken,” you promised as you gathered him closer, turning to lead him to bed. “i’ll always take care of you, baby. always.”

SATORUBI 2024 | pls do not copy, steal, or modify my work !!! happy reading, luv u sluts <3 also tagging my bff @ramonathinks

[fytko-mobile-specs]

New Sony Xperia 1 V: A High-End Smartphone to Look Forward To

Sony, the Japanese smartphone manufacturer, is rumored to launch its new smartphone, the Sony Xperia 1 V. Although the company has not officially announced the phone, leaks, and rumors have been circulating online. The Sony Xperia 1 V is expected to succeed the Sony Xperia 10 IV, which was launched last year in May.

Design and Features:

The leaked images of the Sony Xperia 1 V suggest that the phone will have a sleek design, featuring a triple camera setup on the rear panel with an LED flash placed inside the camera island, different from the Sony Xperia 10 IV. In addition, the image also reveals an NFC logo on the right of the camera island.

Display and Performance:

The Sony Xperia 1 V is expected to come with a 6.5-inch 4K HDR OLED display with bezels and a 120Hz refresh rate, making it ideal for gaming. The display has an aspect ratio of 21:9 and a touch sampling rate of 240 Hz. The phone will be powered by a Snapdragon 8 Gen 1 SoC and will have 12GB of RAM and 512GB of storage. It will run on Android 12.

Camera and Price:

The Sony Xperia 1 V is rumored to come with a triple rear camera setup, equipped with three 12-megapixel Exmor RS image sensors. As for the price, the Sony Xperia 10 IV was priced at $1,599 (approximately Rs. 1,23,500) in the US, and it is expected that the Sony Xperia 1 V will also be priced similarly.

Unveiling Event:

According to a report by Sumaho Digest, Sony may unveil the Sony Xperia 1 V at MWC 2023, which is set to begin on February 27 in Barcelona.

In conclusion, the Sony Xperia 1 V is a high-end smartphone to look forward to, with its sleek design, powerful performance, and advanced camera capabilities. With MWC 2023 just around the corner, we can expect to hear more about the phone soon.

[lokidjarin-7567]

Day 9: Hate Sex

Joel Miller x you

Contents: fem!reader x Joel Miller (TLOU), smut, kinda dubcon (??), not well edited

W/C: 1.4k

I love Pedro Pascal and I love Joel so here we go!!

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

"Oh Joel, why are you so angry?" you muttered, watching as he gritted his teeth. You moved towards him slowly until you were a breath from his face, eyes boring into his. "It wasn't me who messed up that deal. It was my brother. I'm just the messenger��"

"Bullshit," he spat. "Tess told me you were there, and I'm inclined to believe her, not you."

"Look, if you wanted the goods so badly, you should've come yourself…"

"It was a fucking deal, and you went back on it."

"Not my choice."

"You play so fucking innocent," he muttered, venom in his tone as he moved slightly closer.

"You know exactly what you're doing."

"And what's that?" The air was charged suddenly, and you couldn't help but flirt a little. You enjoyed pissing him off, and you could see his anger, but you also couldn't deny how insanely attracted you were to him—especially when he was angry.

"You're…" You edged closer again, just inches from him, and watched as he tried to get his words out, eyes scanning your face. "Trying to get a rise out of me."

"Am I?" You glanced at his lips pointedly, and he maintained the same infuriating eye contact. There was such intense hate seeping from him, and you couldn't help but smile.

"You're insufferable." You swallowed, questioning your next move, but then you glanced down to see the tent in his trousers.

"You sure about that?" He snapped, forearm against your collarbones and pressing you against the door with a force that almost winded you. You laughed at the outward display of aggression, but he cut you off as his lips smashed into yours. It was violent and instinctual, his arm moving to the base of your neck. You gasped up into the heat of his mouth as he applied some pressure there. He growled as your body responded, leg wrapping around his waist and hips grinding into his.

You couldn't breathe, his lips continuing to press against yours combined with his forearm against your neck, and it just made you buck into him more. He laughed darkly into your mouth, the taste of him frustrating you. You had started this. Teasing him. Goading him. Trying to get him to snap. And now that he had, you wanted to play hard to get, to resist him, to carry on hating him… but you couldn't. Your body was betraying you.

It wasn't until your nails dragged down his forearm that he let up, the sudden access to air making you moan just as the hot furnace of his mouth left yours and fell to the sore spot on your neck where his arm had been.

"What are you doing…" you finally managed to gasp between whimpers, hands gripping his shoulders tightly as his own pressed your hips firmly to the wall.

"Just shut up," he grumbled, pulling you harshly from the wall and pushing you towards the bed. You had been flipped over before you could say anything else, and you couldn't help but grin as you felt his hand come down across the back of your ass.

You were glad he was being ruthless. If you were being honest with yourself, you had wanted to fuck Joel for a long time—something about his low, Texan drawl and slutty jeans that made you press your legs together. But you just wanted to fuck him. In this world, there was no space for relationships, just animalistic, filthy, hateful sex. You wanted to be used, to be thrown around to his liking, to be spanked and choked and slapped because if you fucked like that and never really spoke, there would be no room for feelings.

You were so caught up in the moment that you barely registered Joel's hands grabbing at your pants. With fumbling fingers, you managed to undo the button, allowing him to swiftly slip them off your ass. The cool air hit your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Without warning, his hand cracked against the soft flesh of your backside. This time, the impact was more intense, a sharp sting that radiated outward. A feral moan escaped your lips, and you instinctively pressed yourself back towards him, craving more of his touch.

The back of your thighs made contact with his own, the heat from his body seeping into yours. You could feel the hard length of his shaft pressing insistently against your folds, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to mask the sensation. Unable to resist, you ground back into him, relishing in the friction. The movement provided a slight relief from the relentless aching in your core, but it only made you want him more.

“Jesus, fuck me, Joel.” You groaned as you continued to press into him, and he just shoved you against the bed in response, leaving you face down in the sheets.

“Just shut up.” He grumbled and you started to situate yourself. You moved to your hands and knees, how you’d assumed he’d want you, but he pressed you down and forwards, tearing off your underwear and climbing on top of you. You were completely at his mercy. His body weight was on you, you were pressed to the bed on your stomach, completely flat, only really able to lift your head. You even couldn’t see what he was doing. You should be scared. But you weren’t. For some reason, even though you fucking despised him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Well, not without reason.

There was no warning as he grabbed you roughly by your hips, so tight it was painful, slightly pulling them up and positioning you just right before sheathing himself into you completely in one swift, merciless thrust. The noise that was pulled from your throat was primal and unrestrained, almost a scream as every inch of his think member sunk into your core. He was big, so much bigger than you expected, and the sudden intrusion left you aching and gasping for air. You ached from taking all of him so quickly, but it was a good ache, a delicious fullness that had you seeing stars as he hit that perfect spot inside you. His own groan was addictive, deep and animalistic, a sound that reverberated through you. He tried to muffle it by sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder, the sharp pain making your cunt clench involuntarily around him, drawing another low growl from his throat.

He dropped your hips, one hands moving to your hair, gripping it tightly at the roots and twisting, forcing your head down against the bed. His other hand remained planted firmly beside you, supporting his weight as he loomed over you. You really couldn’t move now, hands scrabbling for purchase as he pulled out slowly, the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls almost unbearable. Then, without mercy, he slammed back into you, setting a punishing rhythm that left you gasping and whimpering beneath him. Your body was no longer your own, your total lack of composure making every sensation stronger and more devastating, every single one of your muscles turning to jelly, head spinning. You could feel the pressure building embarrassingly quickly, your impending orgasm coiling tightly in your core, and he could feel it too.

“Getting close there, doll.” He growled out, voice breathy, and you grit your teeth.

“Fuck… You… Joel..” You could barely breathe, using the last of your breath and focus to cuss him out, gasps and moans in between each word giving you away. It a few more smacks across your ass, the skin there feeling red raw and he grabbed the soft flesh, using it as a handle almost to pull you back into his hips. It worked, and within moments you had locked up, pussy pulling him further into you as pleasure washed over you. It was white hot, skin tingling all over as he continued to fuck you through it.

You were shaking by the time you were done, every thrust into you sending jolts through your body of building pleasure and overstimulation.

“Joel…” you muttered, a pathetic whine that escaped before you could catch it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He moaned sarcastically. “You feeling sensitive?”

It was going to be a long night.

[endereies]

MOVIE NIGHT - CS

No Nut November - Day 9

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Chris relaxing and watching a film together

You and Chris had gotten settled on the sofa together while the tv was shining over the pair of you while it displayed a film you’d seen before. All the lights were turned off and the smell of fresh sweet and salty popcorn filled your senses. A fluffy blanket covered the majority of your body while Chris just sat next to you in one of his larger hoodies These moments happened less than you both wanted, with both of your schedules colliding. However, when they did happen, you both settled into each other’s company quickly, unwinding from the week just gone.

The longer the movie plays, you take notice of his movements towards you. Even with your legs touching, he needed more of the person he loved. In his mind the film had been long abandoned, and his attention drew to the way the film cast a soft glow to your face. Your cheekbones were slightly more accentuated, your eyes had gained a little more sparkle, and a dusting of blush covered the tip of your nose. He just couldn’t stop admiring you. Chris loved the simple things about you especially the way your nose twitched whenever he made popcorn to share. He was just so drawn you, and he had no control.

After a while of Chris inching closer, his chin laid on your shoulder. You were used to Chris being close to you, but after realising how much he moved, you giggled in confusion.

“Chris...? Whatcha doing...” He didn’t utter a word and just wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, his fingers rubbing back and forth where your shirt lifted. Eventually he spoke, his voice melodic and lethargic.

“Nothing, just love m’girl.” You rolled your eyes, covering the way your blush grew deeper in your cheeks.

“Are you even watching?” you questioned his behaviour subtly.

“I’m watching you, does that count.” As much as you try, you can’t seem to regain focus back on to the film and you just feel him watching you silently. He notices the way you react, quickly commenting on it.

“Sorry baby, you’re just adorable what can I say?” Chris smiles softly, drawing one hand up to run through your hair, pushing back a few strands so he can see you better.

“Chris. You’re actually a dork.” A few pieces of popcorn shovel into your mouth, distracting you from his sweet comments. You couldn’t help but blush whenever he spoke about you. His words lulled you further into your emotions and he somehow always knew what to say.

“You love it” he leant his head forwards slightly and glanced quickly at your lips. “May I?”

With a nod from you as permission, he closed the remaining amount of distance and shyly kissed you. A satisfied hum leaves him which makes you smile into the kiss. You both kept it mild yet tender and when he pulled back, he stared into your eyes, a stupid grin on his face.

“I love you, you know that right?” In that moment, everything faded away. You knew he loved you and yet you still found yourself acting like a high-school kid with their first crush when he said it to you. “I love you too Chris.”

He leant back to his original position, not before grabbing a handful of the now cold popcorn and shovelling it into his mouth.

“Babe? Can you rewind it? I was not paying attention…”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[astroboots]

Omg please continue with the Miguel fang prompt!!! It’s too cruel to stop there!!!!!

HIDE AND SEEK

Summary: Miguel and you plays hide and seek.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Content: Hunter predator kink (I think that's what we're calling it?) anyway explicit. Miguel is a bit rough.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

It's all too easy to get lost in the crowd in a city as crowded as New York. You slip in among a throng of tourist standing around like a flock of pecking hens, their faces dipped down at their phones, huddled over google maps as they try to figure out how to get to Broadway as if it's not within goddamn walking distance, right down the street.

In a nervous habit, you fiddle with the watch on your wrist. Your eyes flick over the bright light that tells you it's 11:28pm.

Which means, there's still 32 minutes left.

God this is the slowest hour you've ever lived through in your life.

You squeeze yourself in the back, behind a woman with a large hat and larger sunglasses, even though it's evening and the sky is near black. The only things left illuminating the sky now is glaring shop signs, aggressive LED lights, and the mega-spectacular ads display that is brighter than the goddamn sun.

Peering over the madness of the crowd, you try to spot the familiar sight of his all too recognizable build looming over everyone else.

But there's nothing.

He's not here. You let out a long held in breath, your chest sagging with relief. Of course he wouldn't be here.

Times Square has over 300,000 visitors passing through every day. 300,000 sweaty, exhausted individuals drenched in perfume and deodorant that would make it impossible to pick up your scent. Thousands of people speaking all at once, over the angry noise of honking traffic that would make it impossible, even for him, to pick up the sound of your distinct footfall.

No, He won't be able to catch you here. That's why you came here after all.

You glance down at your watch again. 11:31.

Shit! How has only three minutes gone by?

Shaking your head, you look up at the sea of people.

You'd better get moving. Even in a crowd, if you stay still for too long, it won't be safe.

Walking briskly down the wide street, it's a struggle to squeeze through the ever moving crowd as the glaring lights change from makeup ads to theater marquees. You're peering over your shoulder with every three steps you take, constantly expecting the familiar sight of his messy curls to peek out a foot above the crowd.

He's so damn tall there's no fucking way you'll miss him if he's found you. You'll get plenty of advance warning, you reassure yourself as you continue to move forward.

Your eyes settle over your watch again.

11:46. Fuck you sideways.

You know you shouldn't keep checking it every two seconds like this, because all it serves to do, is to ratchet up your blood pressure so high you're going to need to start taking medication for it.

How is time moving so slow. You shake your head in exasperation, and for a fraction of a second you swear you see it.

A flash of unmissable dark navy glowing with red.

You freeze. Your back feels like ice, cold damp sweat breaking out along your spine. You snap your eyes back but there's nothing there now. Nothing but an anonymous crowd.

What the-- How could he have just disappeared into thin air?

He's 6 feet and fucking 9 inches. Taller than your refrigerator back in your tiny studio apartment. The top of his head beats out your fucking Christmas tree. If he was here, he'd be impossible to miss. You don't fucking miss a giraffe when you visit the Brooklyn Zoo, so why are you having such a fucking hard time spotting him? How the fuck does he move so inconspicuously?

Was it just your imagination?

You glance at your watch: 11:46. Gotta be kidding. Is time standing still now? Has it just decided to stop moving altogether?

You force yourself to step forward and ignore how your knees seems to cave at your own weight as you sink into the pavement with every step.

In the corner of your eyes you spot him. Clearly this time. Real. Not a figment of your imagination. He's only a few steps away from you. The familiar pair of glowing scarlet eyes fixed on you.

Oh fuck, shit. Shit! Your heart races at the sight, beating so hard you think you feel it in your lungs. You're already sprinting in the opposite direction without thought and the only thing guiding you is the pure impulse to escape.

You push through the crowd, sprinting forward without taking in your surroundings. All you care about is to get away as your gaze is fixed on your watch.

11:52. Eight more minutes. You just need to stay away for eight more minutes.

You keep running as the crowd seems to thin, and the colorful lights and noise of traffic fades away. Then you finally stop, catching your breath to look up at your surroundings.

It's empty and void of people. A large empty van is blocking the narrow alley from view of the main street, and there's an unlocked gate that you've come through.

On the other side from where you've come from there's a tall bricked up wall as far as the eye can see-- a dead end.

How the fuck did you manage to find the only deserted dead end alleyway in central New York?

Shit you need to get out of here, you won't be able to run away if you're trapped here.

You glance one more time at your watch.

11:57. Three minutes. 180 seconds. It's all you need and then you'll win.

You turn your heel back towards the gate. But it's too late.

The dim light of the alley is eaten up by a large and imposing shadow.

He's already here.

The familiar navy blue and the menacing red sprawled across his chest fills your vision, blocking your only path to escape. All you see is red eyes glowing so bright it lights up the dark alley with it.

"Time's up," he says, mouth curled into a mocking smile so wide that you can see his fangs peek out from his upper lip.

That's when you realize you are well and fully trapped like the helpless prey you are in his spider's web. You're right where he wants you.

God you're so damn stupid. You were safe in the crowd. But one sight of him had you spooked and running into the only alley to be found in all of New York.

Shit.

He'd planned this all along. The bastard's must've been the one who opened the gate. And you had ran in here like some scared witless rabbit straight into his trap.

You could try to escape him. Some vain, silly leftover pride in you, is adamant that you still have at least two whole minutes to get away.

He steps closer, and you can't help but instinctively step back as he does.

You know it's a game. Know that he would never hurt you, but that hungry and predatory red glow in his eyes has fear spiking along your spine all the same.

"Miguel, wai--"

The rest of your futile plea dies in your throat. His broad palm covers your mouth and jaw, and even your startled squeak is muffled into silence as he presses you up against the wall.

You whimper into his hand, but he doesn't relent. Doesn't ease up, even as he leans down and hushes you. Despite the soothing tone he uses with you, it isn't comforting at all. It drips with condescension as he press his lips to your bare throat.

"I'm gonna take my prize now, nena," he murmurs into your skin and because your brain is broken, with no sense for survival instincts, every part of you tingles at the amused threat in his voice.

"You promised remembered?" He reminds you.

And of course you do. It's hard not to, when the bastard's got you pinned against a brick wall in an abandoned alley like something out of a horror movie.

Fuck. He's taken this way too seriously. You don't know why you had suggested the world's dumbest hide and seek with this competitive and unreasonable man.

He presses you into the hard brick behind you, like there's anywhere left for you to go. And you can feel it. The proof of his excitement pressing up against your stomach, pinning you against the wall. He's hard.

Any residual resentment at your loss gives way for excitement when you feel his cock twitch and jerk against you.

The edge of his teeth rests on your bare shoulder as goosebumps breaks across your skin, and you feel dizzy. Anticipation swirls in your stomach with an intoxicating warmth.

You can't fucking breathe.

His hand snakes up your dress, wedging your panties to the side, until you can hear the fabric rip and tear. Shit, you're going to kill him for that.

The thick head of his cock presses in and stretches you open, as he forces his way inside of you, in time with his sharp and whetted fangs sinking into your flesh. Electricity pings across your nerves, sweet and euphoric and you feel drunk with it.

He's filling you, inch by hard and relentless inch, until you swear you can feel him lodged in your stomach. You feel so fucking full. Full of Miguel until nothing else fits anymore, but he doesn't stop.

His cock nudges along an impossibly deep spot inside you that has you losing orientation and makes the space around you spin, and he's still not fully inside.

White blinding pleasure streaks through your every nerve and crowds your vision, as he sinks you down further on him, until your vision goes blank. He's so fucking big. Always is no matter how many times you take him like this.

Pleasure pool with heat in your stomach as he holds you in place, impaled on the thickness of him.

Your limbs go boneless, unable to hold up your own weight, and for a moment you're not sure if that's the venom released to your bloodstream or just the effect he has on you. You only remain upright because he's propping you up with his body.

His mouth skims along your throat, dragging his teeth up until his fangs tease along the shell of your ear, with the threat of sharpness. The edge of them barely graze your skin, completely unlike the feral impatience he'd sunk into you with, as he whispers into your ear.

"Found you, Nena."

Dedication and credits: This piece is dedicated to @foxilayde for her completely deranged (and amazing) post that had me SALIVATING. Thank you for putting this brainworm into my head. I am shooketh.

[holyparadisenightmare]

It had only been a few days since your partner left for their business trip, but you were already going stir crazy. You were spending the whole day tempering your ravenous, insatiable libido. Every inch of you boiled. Toys refused to satisfy.

Climbing into the shower, it was hard not to be turned on just looking at yourself. Your erect nipples, idle playthings for your horny mind. Minutes in and all that work cleaning yourself would be undone. So you'd rinse and repeat.

In your room you found your partner's favourite set of lingerie: a matching set of black, lacey panties and a bra. It had only been a few days since you last wore them, but you could already feel yourself spill out more than usual. What were once large, but perky tits were now heavy hanging breasts that sat snug, snugger than usual, in that delicate fabric.

Nights turned to days as you roamed your house alone. But it wasn't long before your concerns were vindicated. Your breasts had gotten larger. In fact, they continued to grow. Veins pushed their way to the surface as the skin around your tits stretched thinner.

But it wasn't the only thing growing.

You honestly thought it was just bloat. Anxious that a few days of unaccompanied eating and wanking had you gaining weight, your belly surged forward from where you were used to. But after two weeks and the bloat refusing to pass, you knew more was going on.

Throwing on a sports bra, you tried to hide your growing tits and belly. A grey, oversized tracksuit followed over and with a pair of sunglasses the look was complete as you venture out into the world to find some clarity.

You arrived at a pharmacy. The woman at the counter greeted you as you walked in. You smiled politely but bit your lip as you saw her. She was short, a little shorter than you, chunky with a black bob. Thick in all the right ways.

Terrified, you tried to hide your arrousal and your belly.

You smiled back and asked "Can i get a pregnancy test?" your words fell away as your mumble through the last of your sentence.

"I'm sorry, i didn't quite catch that." She said with a smile that said 'i heard you but I want to make you say it out loud.'

Your face was bright red. The woman behind the counter carelessly looking you over like a piece of meat. "A pregnancy test. I need one." You conceed, pointing past her to the display behind the counter.

"Oh, I'm sorry miss." She snarked, reaching back to grab one, "I didn't think someone so far along would needs that."

Your face and pussy burnt. "H-how dare you!" You half moan at her, looking around to see if anyone had heard. You were both alone.

But before you could break into a full tyrade, you looked down at yourself for the first time since you stepped into the store. You had grown since the drive here. And you were huge. The sweat shirt did nothing to hide your size, the front pulled taught by the size of your growing belly.

You cried, "Oh my god!" Before running... well, waddling to the bathroom. You tripped and stumbled as you adjusted to your new centre of gravity. You locked the door behind you and peeled back your slowly shrinking sweat shirt.

You looked full term. 9 months pregnant. Your belly button had popped. Your ass had widened, and your belly grew so naturally from your plump form you wondered how you had ever looked without it.

As you raised your shirt to reveal yourself your hand brushed against your breasts. Its swollen flesh threatened to spill out and over your tight sports bra. You carefully pulled the bra up and over, careful not to put too much pressure on your very sore breasts. Regardless, each nipple slowly trickled beads of milk down your body.

Your pussy craved satisfaction. It ate at you, filling your mind with fog. You were one part petrified, but 9 parts severely turned on. And what little scared you onlu turnes you on more. What if someone caught you?

With a hand you slid up and squeezes one of your engorged breasts. Milk splattered across the mirror. You moaned as you watched your reflection play with herself.

But a knock at the door brought you crashing back to earth. "Ma'am?" The clerk called from behind the door.

"Y-yeah?" Your voice hinted at the pleasure you're so desperate to return to.

"I hate to bother you. But that stall is for paying customers only. And, like I said. I dont think you need this test."

"I can't come out right now." You said back.

"Do you need help?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

You hesitsted for a moment.

"Can you get some oil, some napkins and a clean shirt? I'll pay for them!"

You could hear her voice catch at the strangle request. "O-Okay?"

Eventually she returned. You unlocked the door a crack and let her pass the items through. But in the corner of your eye, in the reflection of the window, you see her face looking back. She saw you, tits, belly and all. Her face turned bright red as she slams the backroom door shut.

Flustered your deslerately scramble to clean yourself up. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You hurridly cry.

Her voice turned into a long and uncertain "uuuhhhhh" as she tried to find the words to describe how she's feeling. "The ummm. The bathroom is kinda gross. Did yo-did you want to use the staff room?" She finally utters. "Its just me here. Perfectly safe."

You sigh. Tired, hungry and heavy, and in desperste need of being milked, you agree. Slipping the white shirt she gave you on, you couldn't deny it left little to the imagination.

Quickly you open the door and slip awkwardly through the pharmacy. Your belly and tits swinging as you do. The wet stains around your nipples getting larger, revealing your dark areolas underneath. After what felt like an eternity of exposure you cross the threshold and slip into the backroom of the store. The clerk quickly closing in behind.

She pulls up a large office chair and gestures you to sit down. You happil oblige, resting your monsterous belly on your lap and your leaking breasts on your belly. The sigh of relief came involentarily as you thank her.

Her smile turned from carring to ceniving as she locks the door behind her. "Now we're alone, I need you to take that top off."

"E-excuse m-me?"

The pharmacist drops down to her knees and begins kissing your enormous belly. "Big girl, you're going nowhere like this. I heard the noises you made. And i know you think i'm cute. Come on." She says, lifting your struggling shirt and sweezing oil into her hands. "Be a good girl for me."

You couldn't help but yelp at her touch, but something about her stern stare made you melt. Between your partner being gone and your sudden pregnancy, you were keen for something certain. Your body relaxed as she went.

She lifted your shirt off completely and exposed your collosal breasts. Rounded, swolen with milk, yet so large they flopped to either side of your mamoth belly. Pinned beneath it, stuck in this chair, the pharmacist had her way with you.

She dragged a tongue up your belly, around your breasts, lapping up stray milk. She sent shivered down your spine. Thrulls of pleasure followed too as she latched onto your swolen nipple. She sucked. Your nipples, raw and wanting, felt a wash of instant relief as you felt your warm milk release from its prison.

Your stray hand reached low, past your belly, in search of your pussy. You were dripping wet. You dove deep into yourself to lube up your finger and began rubbing your clit. You moaned as the gorgeous woman sucked away at your breasts, still rubbing lotion on your belly.

You quickly fell into the pit of pleasure. Your pace was steady and you begged her to keep going. With your other hand you took hold of your spare and swollen tit and squeezed. A yelp jumped from your lips. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your sprayed milk across the back room.

It wasn't long before the pleasure built to a breaking point. You tried to hunch forward but your belly got in the way. You let go of your tit and gripped the desk beside you as hard as you could as you reach climax.

For the first time in weeks you finally felt satisfied. Panting and sweating you look over at your new friend with a greatful smile. She returns the feeling.

But as you stand to leave your legs give out. Not just regular jelly legs, you look down and realise you've only gotten larger. Your belly stretches out to your knees, and your breasts fall down by your side. You can see them swelling with fresh milk. Your thighs have grown and your fat ass is stuck in the chair.

You look up helplessly at the pharmacist as she kneels down between your legs and vanished behind your belly.

[gloriousartisanruins]

Rule#1: A sissy does not have a cock. A sissy has a clitty

Rule#2: A sissy wears a bra and panties

Rule#3: A sissy loves cock

Rule#4: A sissy loves cum

Rule#5: A sissy takes it in the ass

Rule#6: A sissy loves pink

Rule#7: A sissy loves her toys

Rule#8: A sissy dresses like a slut

Rule#9: A sissy shares

Rule#10: Sissies love facials

Rule#11: A sissy must have a tight ass

Rule#12: A sissy must have perfect bimbo makeup

Rule#13: A sissy grows big fake tits

Rule#14: A sissy is a pro cock sucker

Rule#15: One is not enough

Rule#16: A sissy belongs on her knees

Rule#17: A sissy doesn’t forget to practice

Rule#18: Sissies swallow

Rule#19: A sissy begs for it

Rule#20: A sissy will fuck anywhere

Rule#21: Sissies love to plug

Rule#22: Every sissy dreams of being a bimbo

Rule#23: Cum is your reward

Rule#24: You are a tool used to please cock. Every cock.

Rule#25: You prefer Big Black Dick

Rule#26: Sissies love garters and stockings

Rule#27: Sissies love a good gloryhole

Rule#28: A sissy loves the taste is own cum

Rule#29: Woman is superior to sissy

Rule#30: A sissy doesn’t have a boyfriend, a sissy has a master(Daddy)

Rule#31: A sissy doesn’t have a girlfriend, a sissy has a mistress

Rule#32: Sissies bend over

Rule#33: Sissies love heels

Rule#34: Sissies can’t forget to tuck their clitty

Rule#35: A sissy’s ass is always on display

Rule#36: Cute panties are essential

Rule#37: Sissies wear tight leggings to attract men to their ass

Rule#38: A sissy doesn’t neglect the balls

Rule#39: A sissy has no butthole, a sissy has a pussy

Rule#40: A sissy does not jerk her cock. A sissy cums only from getting her ass fucked

Rule#41: A sissy has two holes, both should be put to use

Rule#42: Paint your face to look like a whore

Rule#43: Work out to keep your sexy sissy bod fit

Rule#44: Expose your thong so that they know that its on

Rule#45: A sissy’s body is smooth and shaven all over

Rule#46: A sissy’s body is always for sale

Rule#47: Cum is not to be wasted

Rule#48: Sissies don’t think. Sissies do as they’re told

Rule#49: A sissy’s mouth is not made for talking

Rule#50: Sissies love to be degraded

Rule#51: Big black cock is a delicacy and should be treated as such

Rule#52: Sissies love playtime

Rule#53: Sissies take every inch

Rule#54: Sissies always dress slutty when they go out. So they always get fucked

Rule#55: Panties are only removed for cock

Rule#56: No skirt is too short

Rule#57: Sissies wear bikinis

Rule#58: The only use a sissy has for a condom, is slurping up Daddy’s cum

Rule#59: Wear a black bra, so they know you’re naughty

Rule#60: Sissies fuck outdoors

Rule#61: Pink is to be worn as a badge of sissy pride

Rule#62: Never say no to cock

Rule#63: You’re not a person; you’re a sissy fuck toy

Rule#64: A sissy doesn’t jerk her clitty. She fucks both her holes while rubbing her clitty like a dirty girl

Rule#65: Send pics of yourself to cute boys, let them know you’re a dirty slut

Rule#66: Sissies sit when they pee

Rule#67: Sissies love a nice gang bang

Rule#68: Pink panties alone will not make you a sissy. You must have the body and mind of a true sissy slut

Rule#69: Sissies play with each other

Rule#70: Cum is essential in a sissy’s daily diet

Rule#71: Sissies are whores that don’t earn a thing. Sissies give everything to their Daddy or Mistress

Rule#72: Sissies are property that can be bought or sold

Rule#73: Wear stockings and stilettos

Rule#74: Sissies tuck their clitty into pantyhose

Rule#75: Paint your lips; make them a bright red target for cock

Rule#76: Sissies love Bukkake

Rule#77: Every sissy has a little black dress

Rule#78: Your sissy ass was made to take big dicks

Rule#79: Sissies wear make up to look like perfect little Bimbo Fuck Dolls

Rule#80: Sissies wear sexy lingerie to bed

Rule#81: Sissies love giving road-head

Rule#82: Sissies eat ass

Rule#83: Sissies love to feel the bulge of a hard cock

Rule#84: Sissies always say yes

Rule#85: Always keep eye contact

Rule#86: Grow your hair long so men have something to grab while they pound your ass

Rule#87: Sissies are punished when they misbehave

Rule#88: Sissies don’t mind getting kinky

Rule#89: Strap-on should always be treated as if they were real cocks

Rule#90: A sissy’s legs are always open

Rule#91: A sissy always showers with her daddy

Rule#92: Sissies don’t try to hide their panties; they proudly present them for all to see

Rule#93: A dildo is a sissy’s best friend

Rule#94: A sissy’s pants should always be skin tight

Rule#95: Work your sissy ass, so it can handle being fucked on a daily basis

Rule#96: Sissies wear yoga pants because they know how good their ass looks

Rule#97: Find some sissy friends. Go out and get fucked together

Rule#98: Real women don’t enjoy being groped, but sissies don’t mind at all

Rule#99: All a sissy needs to know is how to please a cock

Rule#100: Be a good girl

Rule#101: A sissy can never have enough shoes

Rule#102: A sissy’s breath always smells like cock

Rule#103: Sissies proudly buy their lingerie in the store

Rule#104: Sissies find a way to dress sexy even when it’s cold

Rule#105: Sissies eat their own cum to remind themselves that they are no longer a man

Rule#106: Sissies love eating pussy only when they get to lap up the Alpha cum dripping from inside

Rule#107: Sissies bounce up and down on real men’s long hard cocks

Rule#108: Sissies love to finger their own asshole

Rule#109: Sissies wear panties when they run their clitty

Rule#110: A sissy always says please and thank you

Rule#111: Sissies read girly magazines

Rule#112: If cum isn’t leaking from your gaping asshole, you’re not done yet

Rule#113: Look cute when you look for cock

Rule#114: Sissies love wearing crotchless panties

Rule#115: Every sissy wants a black daddy

Rule#116: Sissies don’t fuck women, women fuck sissies

Rule#117: Sissies don’t want to be normal girls; sissies want to be bimbo fuck dolls

Rule#118: A sissy needs no help putting on a bra

Rule#119: Wear a tight thong when you plug your boy pussy

Rule#120: Never be afraid of a huge cock, you must worship it as you do every cock

Rule#121: Forget about boxers, sissies wear pretty pink panties

Rule#122: Sissies like it rough

Rule#123: Drop those panties when Daddy says so

Rule#124: Every sissy needs someone to teach them to suck cock

Rule#125: A sissy should never run out of her bras and panties

Rule#126: Wear a crop top, make all the boys stare

Rule#127: Sissies love the feeling of a tight corset hugging their body

Rule#128: Sissies always go out with the intention of getting fucked

Rule#129: A sissy’s ass needs to be trained to take big cocks

Rule#130: Cum dumpster is not an insult it’s your occupation

Rule#131: Sissies get fake tits so they can be fucked in a whole new way

Rule#132: Transform yourself into a perfect bimbo pin-up girl

Rule#133: Desperate for a good fucking? Pick your phone up Sissy, make a booty call

Rule#134: Always treat the balls with extra care, after all, that’s wear your treat is made

Rule#135: Sissies don’t wear lingerie to seduce men; sissies wear lingerie because it makes them feel feminine

Rule#136: Sissies love to feel their big fake tits supported by a tight bra

Rule#137: You can always find a way to practice sucking cock

Rule#138: A sissy is content with the size of her clitty, its small size reminds her that she is not a man

Rule#139: Study real women, take notes

Rule#140: Cum is not to be wiped away and disposed of, it is to be worn with pride

Rule#141: Always look as cute as can be when you go out shopping

Rule#142: When you see cute boys make that booty pop

Rule#143: No cock is too big for a sissy like you

Rule#144: Always be ready for Daddy when he comes home

Rule#145: Your job is to help him with his real job

Rule#146: Every sissy wants to be owned by a big black man with a big black cock

Rule#147: Sissies love to wear matching lingerie

Rule#148: Keep your clitty and boy pussy clean and shaven

Rule#149: A sissy works out like a girl

Rule#150: Sissies don’t get to fuck anyone, sissies get fucked by everyone

[johnbrand]

Call of Duty: Next Potential Chief

With @mrrharper

Inspired by nothing but boredom, Craig booted up his older brother’s console. If he found out that Craig was touching his stuff, his brother would have easily put him in the hospital. The two often fought, being on either end of the masculine spectrum. Craig, the liberal, more effeminate gay, had nothing in common with his conservative, ultra macho douchebag of a brother. Their fights were more or less his older brother shouting slurs at him for being girly, “a pussy” and “a fag," before landing numerous kicks and punches.

The home screen of the console displayed an array of games, most of which were the standard first person shooters. One however caught the short, slim boy’s eyes: Call of Duty: New Potential Chief. He was unfamiliar with any of the COD titles, but this one appeared to be new. At least, that’s what the small “NEW” banner above the icon hinted at. Intrigued, Craig decided to engage, opening the application. It took a while for the game to load, but eventually he was brought to the main menu. 

Complete the Entry Campaign before joining online.

Craig assumed that was reasonable; he would have to endure a tutorial if he wanted to play the game properly. As soon as his finger accepted the prompt, a piercing electric shock paralyzed his entire body. Frozen, Craig now sat completely still as the screen continued forward, ready to engage its program.

Entry Campaign activated, downloading Physicality package…

The screen in front of Craig began to display multiple bars with different characteristics. 

HEIGHT - 68/77 Units

WEIGHT - 152/200 Units

ADIPOSE TISSUE - 16/15%

MUSCULATURE - 23/85%

FEET - 8/15 Units

PHALLUS - 5/9 Units

The standardized inputs confused Craig at first, who although unable to move, still held some consciousness to the situation around him. After the first bones began to crack however, he began to understand the situation a bit more. Fearfully, Craig desperately attempted to move any portion of his body while tendons and ligaments shifted and expanded. As his HEIGHT bar slowly ticked further, Craig could literally hear himself stretching larger and larger, eventually reaching a height of 6’5.

Craig began to plead internally for escape as his muscles proceeded to bloat. His lanky body was quickly evolving, broadening with power. His calves and upper arms swelled, thickening with strength and testosterone. His quads widened, bolstering incredible durability along with his newly-prominent muscle gut. Craig’s seat expanded beneath him, plumping while his hardware opposite upgraded into a juicy 9 inches. Although still paralyzed, Craig’s legs were forcibly separated to accommodate the masculinized bundle, his soles inflating into obscenely large monsters.

Physicality package downloaded. Installing required MASCULINITY data points…

VOCAL HEIGHT - C5/D#4

VOCAL DEPTH - C#3/D2

FACIAL SHAPE - J

FACIAL HAIR - 2/61%

STRENGTH - 21/85%

AGGRESSION - 14/95%

Craig’s head naturally arched back as an emerging Adam’s apple distended from his neck, his vocal chords sculpting an uncommonly deep bass. His jaw was restructured as it jutted forward, stretching his nose and accentuating his brow along with it. A beard quickly grew in to cover the squaring shape, with dark hair flowing through Craig’s pits, down the sternum, across his crotch, and along his arms and legs.

Still fighting for release, Craig felt his inward ambition grow stronger, more offensive. In his mind, he had begun cursing the game, swearing to do unholy things to it and its creator once freed. His language and manner became cruder, brasher, and brutish–akin to his older brother’s demeanor that he had typically admonished. Craig's less analytical behavior distracted him from the the final set of downloads that were being made.

Finalizing Subordination supplements…

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT - 145/60 Units

INTERPRETATIVE ANALYSIS - 97/10%

EXECUTIVE SUBORDINATION - 0/100%

Initializing GAMEPLAY package, uploading TF4971-Wolf onto virtual network…

Without realization, Craig’s protests slowly became weaker and less deliberate. His specific remarks began to loosen, his targeted opinions evaporating as the progress bars ticked towards their end quotients. While his aggressive demeanor remained, Craig gradually lost the language he wished to use. Eventually, even his reasoning was wiped away, diluting his directed anger into simplistic barbarism. 

Once his numbers matched the game’s standards, Craig’s brain was completely devoid of any independent thought. His head was cluttered with only the required media truly necessary. Images of loyal men, bulky men, masculine men in specific uniforms established only one precedent. Instructions on how to shoot, when to shoot, and who to shoot became his only scripture. His mind absorbed the gameplay, understanding its commands.

Now unable to process anything but the mission, TF4971-Wolf did not comprehend his teleportation into an online match in the game. He stood at one end of a battleground, surrounded by other men with the same objective. They all wore the same camo utility pants, thick jackets, and beige caps. They held the rifles they were all programmed to easily operate.

TF4971-Wolf did not question who he was, where he was, or even why he was as he proceeded towards the battleground. He was nothing more than a strong, masculine soldier NPC with permanent instructions to follow the COD programming and win the next match.

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter V

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

''Stop looking at me, Johnny.'' Your voice is strained, currently being crushed by the mass of pure muscle currently laying on top of you.

''Cannae keep my eyes off of ya, doc.'' You roll your eyes, attempting to change positions before giving up. The man is not going anywhere.

''Or your hands. Let go of me.'' You gather the strength to try to push him away again, just for Johnny to make himself heavier and shoot you a cheeky smile. As if being woken up by the man running into your room and crushing you wasn't bad enough, he was refusing to let go or move, arms wrapped around you tightly, legs caging you in.

''Next time I'm letting you die.'' You sigh, stopping the struggle just for your best friend to lay down next to you, an arm wrapped around your shoulder.

''Saved my life out there, bonnie.'' The man is like a golden retriever and it's practically impossible to resist his charms, not when he has been in a coma for two whole weeks after the surgery, leaving you alone with the rest of the team. Your hand comes out of the blanket to gently pat his cheek before your arms are wrapping around his neck, bringing him closer, foreheads pressed together.

''I kinda missed you, you know?'' His arms wrap around your waist as he brings you even closer, hearts pressing together. He sighs, looking away before looking back at you.

''Thought that was the end of me, doc. Fuckin' Makarov got away an' I get a bullet to the heid.'' Johnny has always been an open book, anger and frustration clear on his face, yet his eyes showed the fear he felt at the idea of being an inch from death. Your chuckle brings his attention back to you, eyebrow raising in a display of attitude only Gaz can surpass.

''Took me 12 hours to bring you back, Johnny. Got help from Ghost for the chest shots, but your head...? If anything that shouldn't be touched was messed with, we could have lost you— or made you into more of an idiot.'' He playfully tugs on a strand of your hair, a small smile on his lips, yet his eyes were just as haunted as before. He took a deep breath before holding you closer, your face buried on his chest, warm hand on the back of your head.

'''t was scary, bonnie. Thought I'd wake up in hell with all the fannybaws I've killed.'' A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he lets go of you, giving your forehead a small kiss before getting up from bed, looking around your room before his blue eyes go back to you.

''Thank you. For saving me.'' Your gaze softens as you look up at him, finally getting up from bed and gently patting his shoulder, looking at the small patch of hair that had to be shaved off in order to have more space to operate.

''Should have shaved that stupid mohawk while I was at it.'' He gives you an overexaggerated look of mock offense and you grin up at him, happy to at the very least, have your best friend back. He's not ready to be out on the field yet, so you can already expect him to be bothering you or Simon as much as possible.

His hand drapes over your shoulder as he guides you out of your quarters and drops you off in an interrogation room, your eyebrow raising as you look up at him for an explanation.

''L.Ts teaching you how to interrogate people. Said something about ye becoming more involved in field work.'' You don't question it, knowing if anything happens to the team while out on a mission, you'd have to take over. Johnny gives you a smug smile as he walks away, fully aware of what at the very least seemed to be Ghost's attraction to you.

You open the door just to see him already waiting, sitting on an old chair with rope held in his hands. His brown eyes immediately go to yours, softening slightly as he offers you the rope. He knows it's a bad idea, but at the same time, he wants to ensure you know as much as possible about psychological warfare, even when it's completely different from your field. It's an excuse to spend extra time with you, that much is clear— but he also knows you're a fast learner.

''Simon.'' There's a smirk threatening to tug at your lips as you grab the rope, already getting on with tying him up. It's something you're very familiar with, not needing further instructions and ignoring the way his muscles tense up slightly in mild surprise as your hands move with pure expertise as if this is nothing but a second nature to you.

It takes a few minutes until you're done, looking down at the artwork with the perfect muse— there's a knot tied up on top of Ghost's chest, rope running over his chest in three different sections, uniting where his hands are tied behind his back. The rope goes up, binding his mid-section to the back of the wooden chair. His thighs are held apart with the tight rope, ankles tied to the front legs of the chair, his prominent bulge standing out even more with the tightness your knots have.

''Right.'' He interrupts after you stare at him for a second too long, already feeling the sweat pooling up on his forehead underneath the balaclava.

''You already got the intimidation part down, so let's move with torture. In that table there's tools you can use on me. When interrogating the enemy... make sure you start slow before you build up on the most damage you can do without killing. Anything is fair game in this field, love.'' He looks down before looking back up at you, trying to keep his eyes from wandering as he looks at you in civilian clothes for the first time.

''Torture, psychological tactics of intimidation, even amputation, if you're not afraid of being discharged.'' He's clearly joking about the last part, but his voice remains serious as he focuses on the task at hand.

''Go get something from there and try to make me talk. I'll be an enemy holding back information, get it out of me.'' He gestures to the table with his head and you hum in acknowledgement. The corners of your lips tug into a smirk as you see it— a red candle among the many different tools, a zippo lighter you recognize as his right next to it.

''Interesting.'' He doesn't even have to look to know what caught your attention. Your hand reached out for the lighter, flicking it on and staring at the flame for a few seconds before looking over your shoulder, gaze catching his. His eyes follow your movements, from the way you slowly walk up to him, to your hands lifting up his shirt, wrinkling the fabric together underneath the knot of the rope, his strong body exposed.

His breath hitches when your cold finger trails up and down from his abs to his chest. He watches you light up the candle, waiting until the wax starts to melt before slowly tipping the candle closer and closer, pausing before the burning flame makes contact with his skin, waiting for his approval. All he can do is stare down at you and nod his head once.

Your eyes focus on his strong torso, tipping the candle until the wax began slowly dripping into the pale skin, muscles flexing underneath. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to not give you a reaction despite the burning pain on his sensitive skin.

''That all you got?'' He challenges and that does nothing but make the dangerous glint in your eyes dance along with the fire. Your hand goes higher, tipping the candle again until a new bead of wax drips down his chest, not a single sound coming out of him besides his heavy breathing.

''Not yet.'' There's a small smirk on your lips as you notice the jolt that runs through his body, flinching slightly when the hot wax lands on his nipple, yet he still doesn't let out any sounds of struggle. His rock-hard cock twitches in his jeans, another deep breath coming out of him as the muscles on his stomach flex involuntarily. He takes his eyes off of you when the wax drips onto his other nipple, staring at the ceiling as he tries his best to calm down, body shifting in discomfort as much as possible despite the rope binding his whole body to the chair.

''Try harder.'' He orders, gravelly voice growing deeper. A small snicker escapes your lips at his words, nodding your head. From this angle you can see how his pupils dilate, the black specks quickly overpowering his dark brown eyes.

Your free hand travels from the now dried wax, all the way down to his jeans, fingers neglecting his hard cock and undoing his belt instead. His eyes snap back down on you, yet he doesn't deny you. You pull his cock out with your free hand, freeing him from the tight fabric before you let it go, allowing the thick shaft to rest on his abdomen. The candle goes up again, teeth softly biting on your lower lip out of excitement as you look at the red wax drip on his shaft.

''Fuck.'' His stare is firm, but the moment the wax touches his skin, he winces in pain. There it is. His head leans back on the chair, eyes closing tightly as more wax drips all over his painfully hard cock.

''Stay with it... It's nothing.'' He reassures himself, voice nothing short of a pathetic whimper. He shifts his body as you start letting the wax drip higher and higher, movements slow and calculated. He shifts his body, trying to escape the searing hot pain of the wax yet being unable to.

''Fuckin' amateur.'' He spits out, eyes opening to look down at you. His muscles are tensed, jaw clenching underneath his black balaclava. You can see a drip of sweat spill down from his masked forehead, moisture gathering at the bits of skin you can see from his face, eye black looking shinier than before.

''You seem to be enjoying what this amateur is doing, sir.'' Your words are taunting, clearly trying to get a reaction out of him, yet he gives you nothing other than a soft, low moan, half-lidded eyes looking down at you intensely. Your smirk grows at his silence, looking down at the hardening layers of wax all over his thick cock.

''You wanted me to break you, so I will.'' You watch the wax drip down to his glistening tip, mixing in with his precum. He can't help the way his body thrashes against the rope, trying to get away from the pain as a deep moan of pain escapes his lips. You say nothing this time, simply moving the candle around, angling it up so the dripping wax lands on a different part of his tip.

''Fuck! H- I cant—'' He whines out, eyes closed tightly as his body reacts involuntarily. He's still struggling against the rope, yet he doesn't have it in him to ask you to stop.

''That's all you can take?'' You taunt with fake pity and he inhales sharply, beads of sweat running down his forehead, pain showing in his face even when the balaclava is covering it. He finally lets out a quiet whimper, eyes struggling to remain open simply to stare down at you as he always does, yet there's no confidence behind them anymore.

''Do better.'' He's clearly trying to spite you and it works. Your free hand comes up to flick his tip harshly and this time, he doesn't fight himself, a low moan of pain and pleasure escaping his lips. His hips thrust up slightly and in that moment you know— Ghost's resolve is being broken.

''Fuckin'... hell.'' He moans out, bound hands behind his back becoming tight balls, veins bulging in his arms. His head tilts back when he feels a new drop of wax falling on his tip. He can't help it, really, the way his hips thrust up in nothing but pure desperation, ropes of thick white cum staining his abdomen as he groans out in a mix of pain and pleasure, muscles flexing underneath your touch.

''I win, Simon.'' Your taunt does nothing to him other than to make more cum spurt out of his throbbing cock, looking down at him in a mix of amusement and fake pity. Your gaze connects to the pair of wide brown eyes staring at the scene through a half-opened door, cock throbbing in his pants.

A/N: fun fact! Vamp was created with K-9 in mind, but I couldn't keep the idea in my drafts for long enough to use it in this fic so it was published as a one-shot. I decided to use the one-shot in this chapter, as things will get more interesting in the next ones!<3

[caraudioexpertaustralia0]

Headunit With Carplay For HONDA ACCORD 8TH 2008-2013 HIGH | 9INCH

Headunit With Carplay For HONDA ACCORD 8TH 2008-2013 HIGH | 9INCH

[the-xolotl]

Worshiping At His Feet

Alastor x fem!Reader

⟢ a/n: i actually wrote half of this about 2-3 weeks ago and kinda left it to collect dust ^^, but here it is !! for my oral fixation bitches <33 i was listening to Rule 34 by Fish in a Birdcage and it was the perfect inspiration tee-hee.

summary: i don't have a quirky summary this time; you suck Al's dick lol

⟢ CW: service sub reader, cock worship (m receiving), no use of y/n, terms of endearment, praise, throat fucking, erotic asphyxiation, subspace, cumming untouched, leg/shoe humping, Al’s dick is like 9" in this one besties, reader w a long tongue.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT. Thank you~

Alastor’s eyes raked over your trembling form kneeling before him with amusement and curiosity. The Radio Demon currently had you sitting on your thighs, bare from head to toe save for the green-glowing collar around your neck and the chain he currently has curled around his hand. Yet, your trembles weren’t from fear nor were you cold. No, the smell of arousal that tickled his nose is proof enough to let him know you’re the furthest thing from scared. There isn’t a sign of embarrassment or even shyness on your body as his red ruby eyes bore over every inch of your skin.

If anything, you sit with poise and elegance. Perfectly submitting to your figurative and literal place beneath him and wearing it with a straight back and puffed chest hints of pride in your position. You were writhing with anticipation; your little trembles came from the sheer excitement. You reminded him of an excited puppy, wiggling in delight, waiting to eat out of their master’s hand. Alastor couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased with this little display of obedience and devotion.

He has given you simple instructions: Strip, kneel, stay, sit still. Do not speak unless spoken to. And to your credit, you are doing just that. The twitches and shakes of arousal were somewhat out of your control. He knew you couldn’t help being a bitch in heat in his presence. Even still, you weren’t sitting still like he ordered. Your big eyes fixated on his own, waiting for your next instructions.

“Darling, what were your orders?” his velvety voice crooned, the radio filter crackling with his tone’s low notes.

You felt your eyebrow twitch and your heart pound against your ribcage. The Radio Demon doesn’t have you repeat instructions unless you missed a step or didn’t follow them correctly. Alastor is gracious enough to give you a singular chance at correcting yourself before punishment is dished out. “Strip, kneel, stay, sit still. Do not speak unless spoken to,” speaking with an even tone, struggling to keep your voice from trembling. He gave your collar a light tug, just enough to remove slack. You audibly swallowed, feeling your chest tighten at the pull of your very soul.

“Good pet,” he purred, “So fix it.” That’s all he offered. Leaving you confused, the words echoed repeatedly in your head, trying to find the mistake. Alastor’s smile grew impossibly big as the lost expression edged into your face. He was already kind enough to give you a hint. It’s your job now to figure it out. He had time.

Meanwhile, you readjusted yourself, planting your weight further into your calves and placing your palms at ease over your thighs. You had the urge to run a thumb along your flesh soothingly, feeling your thighs shaking, so you did. And that’s when it clicked. Sit still.

You stop immediately, your body going rigid, and flick your gaze to Alastor again, who has an approving glint in his eyes. The corner of your lips twitches upwards, and your heart flutters again, this time at his silent approval.

“That’s it. Good job,” Alastor praised extending his hand towards you. You lean in immediately resting your cheek on his palm, relishing in the warmth of his captivating touch. “Come closer, dear. You’re allowed to rest your hands on my lap.”

Alastor uncrossed his legs to allow you to slot yourself between them. Still knelt, you didn’t hesitate to let your hands come up to his legs. Your hands glided across his clothed thighs with a feather-light touch before they settled at the apex of them resting them there. With his hand still on your cheek, he tilted your head back, “You’re going to service me now. I’m going to use your mouth, and you’re going to let me,” his thumb ran over your bottom lip, “Understand, little one?”

Alastor saw your eyes light up like stars; he chuckled at you. “Yes, Sir,” you responded already with a breathy voice.

“Take me out.” He ordered. Wordlessly, you look up at him again once his pants have been undone, asking for permission. He lifted his hips, allowing you to drag his pants and underwear down to pool at his ankles. Now, with his half-hard shaft resting on his hip, your mouth watered. Lust flowed through your veins like a good liquor, slowly warming you. You couldn’t help but lick your lips and bite down on your bottom lip.

Your pheromones came off you in waves, permeating the air around you both. Alastor has a sensitive nose. While he wouldn’t admit it, your arousal alone had already caused a reaction in his body. His idea was to have you work him hard, but your eager responses had already done half the job for you.

The hand on your cheek came to grab hold of the back of your head, bringing your face centimeters from his hardening cock. You could see the bead of pre-cum already forming at the tip. Making your breath hitch and swallow back a needy noise.

“Use your tongue to get me hard, pretty pet,” he instructed, “Go slow, and don’t use your hands until I let you.” You nodded, your tongue already lolling out to drag the wet muscle across the entirety of his length; tongue swirling around the tip before wrapping itself around half his cock. You used your long tongue to your advantage, using it to stroke him in long, languid pumps. Alastor sighed a hum as you worked him and your lips sucked harder on the tip before taking him further in.

Just as instructed, you went slowly. You found a pace at which you bob your head up and down taking another inch at each downward suck. Alastor rewarded you by running his long fingers through your hair and audibly low moans of your name, his grip on the chain tightening when he felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You moaned then already feeling your mouth so full but still having at least half his dick to fit down your waiting throat. Without skipping a beat you sank your lips further on his shaft without breaking eye contact. The vibration sends a delightful shiver up Alastor’s back earning you a quiet good girl.

“So eager aren’t we, love?” he twitches in your mouth, “You look so pretty with those lips stretched around me like that,” Alastor can make sinful words sound so pretty with the way he coos down at you with his transatlantic accent. The praise makes your thighs clench tightly together, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs to resist the urge to touch yourself. This makes Alastor chuckle and use the side of his foot to tap your knees to separate them. A little whine is muffled by his length being stuffed in your mouth but you look at him pleadingly. A smug expression crosses his features as he brings a leg between yours pressing the back of his shoe against your dripping sex. “Grind. If you need touch that badly this is all you’re getting until you’ve made me cum.”

Your back arches and cheeks become increasingly hotter as the blush reaches your ears. It’s a humiliating act to dirty his shoes in such a way, yet, your hips immediately rock down bumping his leg and holding on even tighter to him. Your concentration wanes on your main task becoming sloppier, and more messy with drool dripping from the corners of your back and down the rest of his cock that isn't already inside your mouth. Moans become louder and more frequent even as your throat becomes more occupied the bigger he swelled. The smallest mercy you’re granted is your lack of a gag reflex allowing you to take him deeper with better ease but that’s being challenged by the way his cock is obstructing your breathing while Alastor is digging the top of his shoe into your puffy clit.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes struggling to keep up, vision going in and out. Both from the tears and the lack of air going into your head. But you are so set on being a good girl, you could never disappoint your master. The deer demon could see your struggle but said nothing, delighting himself in watching your eyes roll back and eyelids drooping, your grip is also beginning to slack. Alastor laughed pulling you off his cock by the phantom collar and holding your face to make you look directly at him, “Breathe; take a deep breath, my dear. You can’t pass out yet,” he said as he tapped your cheek lightly and wiped the saliva off your mouth. “Such a mess and we’ve only just gotten started.”

There are dark spots in your vision and you’re fighting to blink them away taking sharp breaths through your nose. Your mind feels foggy and a little airy already and there’s a slight ringing in your ears. “That’s it, my love, stay with me,” a warm hand delicately cradled your cheek brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, “Such good girl for me.” It tickled your insides every time he spoke to you with such softness with the undertones of condescension, it brought a smile to your face to hear his acclamation of your work.

“I’ll allow you a break, use your hands,” his hand leaves your face to help you bring your trembling fingers around his pulsing hardness. He guided your hands up and down his shaft, “You know how to please me, don’t you pretty girl?” he tapped the back of his shoe against your folds again sending a jolt through your entire body making your hips buck.

“Yes, Sir, everything— anything— for you,” you pant out through little keens. So eager for your Master, the owner of your heart, mind, and soul. You were surrendered to this demon with every fiber of your being. There isn't an inch of you that doesn't belong to him. With a pleased grin he lets go of your hands allowing you to keep going on your own, your strokes remain long and languid and you can't help but let your eyes fall to watch your hands that can barely wrap around them go up and down. Alastor hisses as you tease and press into the tip to collect the bead of pre-cum that formed.

"Be careful what you wish for, little love," voice dropping ever lower to a more sensual tone, radio filter straining and crackling, "You might just get what you ask for and not realize it's more than you've bargained for." The devil danced in his eyes as he spoke leaning down to meet your gaze, your breath hitched but a mischievous grin tugged your lips to match his own.

"I can take it," you whisper, eye flicking down to his lips momentarily, "And if I can't, make me," your confidence excited him, made him crave you in sensual ways as much as you craved him. He stole your lips in an intense kiss, and your lips collided when he tugged you forward by the collar. He devours your lips like he is going to eat you whole. Your hands sped up on his cock making him moan into the kiss, noises are more than happy to swallow down greedily. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth exploring it, rubbing and pushing against your wet muscle in a sinful dance. It made you mewl back into his mouth melting into his lips.

"Let's test your resolve then, shall we?" he pulled away breathlessly, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. Your head is still reeling and you barely notice the tentacles that wrap around your thighs and bring both of your hands behind your back, he removes his leg from between your legs and stands up from his chair. You look up at Alastor with falling tears already rolling down your cheeks. "Open up, ma chère," you obey without a second thought, tongue lolling out. Alastor drags his thick cock over your open lips, rubbing up and down over your warm tongue then lightly tapping his cock over your face teasingly. You pull against your restraints already missing your hands over his body.

"Beg," he orders still teasing your mouth. His smile turned right down devilish hearing moan just from his words.

"Please, Master? I need your cock in my mouth, I want it so bad," big doe eyes looked at him with tears, "Let me have your cock down my pretty throat," you say with desperation batting your lashes and opening your mouth wider. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. Let me service you. I want to make you feel good," you lean to press your cheek against his pelvis cock hanging right in front of you but didn't dare lick or kiss just yet, not before giving you explicit permission.

Without another word, he cradles your face letting go of the chain, collar disappearing completely when he did so, and shoving his cock into your mouth in one go. He groaned demonically when your throat constricted around him. There's still a good inch or two of him you hadn't managed to fit in yet, "Make me, you said, mon ange?" your eyes widen from both fear and excitement. Adrenaline pumped rapidly through your veins as you held his gaze, heart beat like a drum against your ribcage in anticipation. Alastor almost looked apologetic as he pulled out to the tip slowly, teasingly then held both sides of your head to thrust into your mouth. Radio static buzzes through the air and his eyes flash radio dials.

"Ḿ̶̛̲̩͓̤̗̘͒͊̌e̷̟̼̳̼̭̿̾͋͒̐̿͌r̵̥͔͈͉̤͝d̴̯̞̙͚͆͗̈̋̔͘̕e̴̥͉̦̒̓͒̇̊̒͜͝ͅ," he cursed quietly, one hand tightening on your hair making you wince. The first thrust is nearly successful and he holds you there for a few long moments letting you adjust. One of his hands slides down to press the bulge that his cock is making in your throat and gently caressing it. He's so fucking big in your mouth and so long you doubted you'd be able to take all of him. More tears stream down your face quickly running out of air as he holds you down. "So close, almost there, my dear. L̸͕̔e̷̦̕t̸̮̏'̴̹͝s̵̠͂ ̴͜͠t̴̙͗r̴̘̽ÿ̶͙́ ̷̱̆ȁ̵̭g̷̨̈́a̷̧̎i̵̝̐ñ̴̻." Once again he pulled out but didn't give you time to breathe barely sneaking in one deep gasp.

He thrusts harshly into the heat of your mouth, pushing your head down in the process this time. You yelp and moan as your nose graces the tuff or coarse hair at the base of his length, writhing and squirming Alastor bows and arches his back over you, "So t̸̜͐ĭ̴̹g̶̹͌h̶̯͐t̴̟͝ ̸͔̏ã̶͍n̶̥̑d̸̢̈ ̴̦͑ẉ̷̐a̷̢̛r̵̼͆m̸̧̾, you're perfect." his voice is rough and the radio filter keeps switching in and out. The radio demon sets a brutal pace fucking into you, "Keep those pretty lips open, dear." Alastor gives you no mercy not letting you breathe between thrusts. Soon you're feeling woozy, your jaw slacking allowing Alastor to slide in and out more easily.

"That's it, you're mine. Aren't you, sweet thing? All mine," words coming out between pants and moans, "Let go, forget everything outside of these four walls and sounder to me, my dear." Your moans die at your throat completely muffled by this cock. As the seconds pass you feel less and less present laying yourself at his hands. No more coherent thoughts form in your brain, he relishes the way your body shakes and how your eyes roll back every time he bottoms out. You can tell the lack of air is getting to you; you feel faint, your jaw hurts, your chest feels tight, and your knees are possibly bruising but all your thoughts are of Alastor and the way he's ravishing you. How much do you enjoy being used as his little cock-sleeve. You gladly take anything he gives you with no questions asked, and he knows that too.

He only slows down when he feels his orgasm build and coil, so he removes himself from your mouth. You gasp so desperately that you're wheezing to let air into your burning lungs. Shadows dance across the walls and floor seemly also pleased with your performance. "Such a good girl, you know how to please your master." There's adoration behind those words and you feel elated. A rush of euphoria zooms across your body, and whines bubble up in your chest but only come out as broken sobs.

"You've trained me so well, Sir, only for you," your voice is scratchy and barely audible from the abuse to your vocal cords yet you still have stamina to keep going. Deposite the fact that there’s a buzzing in your head and the ringing in your ears has only gotten louder and you’re incapable of thinking outside of sucking off Alastor you’re ready to swallow him down again. Even through the ache that has settled in your body from being forced into a single position for such a long time you’re impatiently waiting to get face fucked again. Your cheeks sting slightly from the tears too, as a few more stays roll down the redden skin.

“You want more, don’t you?” Alastor pets the top of your hair softly, you nod tiredly. “You deserve a reward for such a wonderful performance, come here sweetheart,” his tentacles release their hold on you finally letting you touch him again. Immediately your hand comes up to grab a hold of his hips caressing and appreciating the soft short fur. Alastor guided his cock back into your waiting mouth immediately sinking in with a moan of your name. You brace yourself with hands on his thighs for his brutal pace and relaxing your jaw as much as you can for him. Just being used for his own pleasure brought you to such heights of ecstasy you’re able to get off in it, he didn’t even need to touch you.

The familiar coil in your abdomen tightens as the sounds pour off his lips and his fat cock slides in and out of your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin and nice pressing against his pelvis. “So close, darling, you’ll get your reward soon,” his radio filter glitches out. Once again his shadows grow taller, antlers extend and his smile strains as he takes harsh breaths in through his nose. He moans loudly through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier. It’s hard to say if you’re still breathing properly by the time you feel Alastor’s warm cum pouring into your throat. Alastor with his hand cradling the back of your head pushes himself all the way inside your mouth as he fills you up. Your whole body twitches and you choke a moan when your orgasm hit you right after his. Your juices make a puddle on the floor and cover your thighs.

He’s still coming but you’ve run out of breath before he pulls out, your vision blacks out and your limp body slumps against his legs. Alastor picks you up bridal style and pressures you close to him, still catching his breath. “You did so good my doe, so perfect,” he whispered next to your ear and murmuring small apologies for overexerting you. He’d worry about the mess on the floor later, so he carried you to the bathroom on the other side of his bedroom, nudging the ajar door open. Without letting you out of his embrace he lets water run into the bath, littering your cheek and forehead with kisses while waiting for the tub to fill up.

It’s not long after that you finally come back to, slowly, groggily and already in the warm water while Alastor has your back resting against his chest. You slowly blink the drowsiness from your eyes, too tired to move your body, you accept the fact you probably blacked out, it’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Alastor asked softly, arms sliding under the wanted to wrap around your middle. He rested shit chin on your shoulder snuggling closer to you. Endearing how gentle he is after sex; the harder he is on you the sweeter the aftercare.

“My jaw aches, my knees hurt,” your voice comes out huskier than usual, “My voice is going to be fucked for a few days. But… I’m more than satisfied,” you turn your head to lay a sweet kiss on his lips. “Let’s get washed up so we can go to bed. I’m exhausted after our little tryst,” you giggle pressing your forehead to his, he chuckles along with you sharing a little intimate moment and a few more kisses before actually getting clean and stepping out of the shower to retire to bed, nice and warm cuddled and tangled up in each other as lovers do.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[alexiroflife]

‘don’t hate me’

“Across the Earth” Part 2: satoru gojo x reader

part 1 | part 3

Synopsis: satoru struggles with your constant anger at him and ponders if you've ever cared about him the way he cares about you. his temporary solution to his conflict is to force you along with him to his villa

to sum it up: "why can't she love me?"

WC: 8,821

“Wakey, wakey!”

You groan as the blare of the sun irritates your eyes until you open, unsure of whether the voice that sang into your ear moments ago was a hallucination inspired by your sleepy state or not. 

You rub your hand over your eyes, stretching your arms out and rolling over to find Satoru leaned over, his face inches away from yours with a dopey smile.

You screech, jumping up and shuffling to the other side of your bed, eyes wide as your vision adjusts to the blue eyed man’s figure standing at the edge of your bed with a to-go bag in hand. He chuckles to himself, looking over you mischievously. “Oops, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You grumble incoherently to yourself, adjusting to your steady regain of consciousness. You turn to look out the window and see that it is still early morning by the way the sun sits in the sky. You sigh and crawl over to your nightstand to reach for your phone, eyes hazy when you catch the time reading 9:05.

“What are you doing?” you exhale tiredly, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed and looking up at Satoru with sleepy eyes as you scratch your head. You miss the way he stumbles over his words slightly and averts his gaze for a second before he’s placing the paper bag he held onto your lap. 

“Wishing you a happy morning,” he says. “I got you breakfast.”

You furrow your brows, peering into the bag’s contents to find a lox bagel with cream cheese, something you had loved for years. You blink, reaching in to grab it instantly, your mind fixing solely on hunger that bubbles at the sight of the bagel. 

“You would not believe the line I had to wait in to get this thing. New Yorkers are so bossy, pushing each other around and yelling for no reason that early in the morning,” Satoru rambles about his first experience at a bakery in the city. “This one guy almost took off my head because I tried to move around to see the display case. He thought I was cutting the line or something.”

“You went out this morning?” you ask softly, peering up at him as you grasp the large bagel in your hands.

“Yeah, just got back,” he answers casually.

You hum in appreciation. “Thanks, Toru,” you say mindlessly before taking a huge bite.

Satoru’s cheeks warm slightly and he’s waving you off like it’s nothing. “So, what time are we heading out?”

You look at him inquisitively, mouth full. “We?” your muffled voice repeats.

“That’s what I said.”

You don’t have the capacity to ask further right now as you still wake yourself up. “In ‘firty I go,” you tell him, mouth full. 

He snickers. “Thirty minutes?”

You nod.

“Alright then, you go get dressed and I’ll wait for you out here,” Satoru makes his way to the doorway leading to the living room. You furrow your brows, swallowing harshly.

“Wait,” you stop him. “What do you mean? Where’s Suguru and Shoko?”

“Out to breakfast.”

“...Why aren’t you with them?”

“Cause I was getting you breakfast.”

“But,” you shake your head. “Why are you waiting for me? You know I have somewhere to go soon.”

“Oh, that’s because I'm coming with you,” he smiles and you straighten up, perplexed.

“What?”

“I wanna see where you’re working.”

You purse your lips. “I don’t think that’s…”

“And I want to visit the museum.”

“...Okay, then can’t you visit later?”

Satoru tilts his head back over his shoulders, casting you a sarcastic gaze. “Why? ‘You pushing me away again already?”

“Um- no?! It’s just not professional for me to pull up to a meeting with my friend hanging around!”

He smiles. “Relax, I’ll be good. It’ll be like I’m not even there.”

“No, Satoru,” you stand, putting your bagel down to rummage through your drawers for an outfit. “I’ll see you after, but you can’t come with me.”

“Come on,” he complains dramatically. “Not even for a little bit?”

“No.”

“What if I just take a peek inside?”

“I said no.”

“Can’t you at least let me drive you there?”

You halt, turning to look at his pleading eyes. “And what about our friends who are out?”

“I can always go pick them up when they’re done,” he persuades. “Come on, come on,” he drawls. “Let me give you a ride, pretty please with a cherry on top?”

You exhale, pressing your lips into a straight line. “Alright, fine!” you begrudgingly accept. “But just one ride, and you don’t go inside. Got it?”

“How about two rides, one and there and back,” he presses.

“I don’t know when I’ll be done or what I’m doing after, Satoru.”

“Sure you do, you’re hanging with us, remember?” he reminds you of last night’s conversation.

“I never agreed to that.”

“That’s too bad, I wasn’t asking,” he grins.

“God, you’re so annoying! Okay, sure, whatever, two rides. But that’s it, you hear me? You’re not going into that museum while I’m meeting there.”

“Ugh, you wound me,” he frowns theatrically. “But I suppose that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go away while I get dressed,” you dismiss him. “And take a shower while you’re at it.”

Satoru’s face falls in horror. “Do I stink?!”

You pinch your nose and pucker your lips in fake disgust. “Not yet, but the longer you keep those clothes on from yesterday without bathing, you will.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts. “At least you don’t hear me saying anything about your morning breath.”

You grit your teeth, picking out a pair of random jeans and chucking them at the white haired man who caught them in his hand with ease. “Get out now!”

He laughs, turning to take your pants with you. “You’re not getting these back,” he sings, pulling the door closed behind him.

The two of you are refreshed and dressed on time for you to make it to the museum with a few minutes to spare. Satoru walks you to his rental car parked on the side of the street a few blocks down, a sleek black convertible with no hood greeting your sight.

You stare at the vehicle in agitated awe as Satoru holds the passenger seat door open for you, lenses of his dark glasses gleaming like the pride in his blue eyes as he watches your expression. “After you,” he says with a goofy tone.

You scoff, stepping into the car cautiously. There are times when Satoru’s wealth, though a constant fact nagging in the back of your head, truly astonishes you. This is the same guy who drops thousands at the mall every other weekend for fun when the group tags along, showering his money into registers like it’s nothing. And of course, there’s the fact that Satoru planned and booked a trip across the world within a day and managed to find a rental car and a villa that suits his expensive tastes. You roll your eyes. He’s so obnoxious with his money at times. 

“You’re insane,” you mumble and he giggles, shutting the door behind you and rounding the car to step into the driver’s seat. 

Despite Satoru’s privilege, however, he is and always has been a very very poor driver. You are sorely reminded of this fact when he weaves through the already hectic streets of New York, honking impatiently with his arm slung over the side and nearly ramming into bumpers at a stoplight, his driving matching his carefree personality and the chaos of the city rather well. You simply pray that you won’t die in the passenger seat of his car.

As some time passes, you look over and catch a glimpse of his stunning side profile as he drives, loose sweater teasing his collarbone and neck muscles while his veiny hand grips the wheel tight, fingers occasionally running over and thrumming against the leather. 

Your eyes then drift down to his exposed forearms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His muscles tense every now and then with the rotation of the wheel, his head throwing over his shoulder to glimpse behind him before merging sloppily. 

He catches your eyes once as you’re staring, and you’re quick to look away, clearing your throat and hardening your eyes. It’s his turn to look at you now, seizing his opportunity when he hits another red light. 

His blue eyes roam over your face, studying the curve of your brow and the subtle pout in your plump lips. He breathes in slowly, chest rising as the sight of your face makes his heart skip a beat. You blink a lot, he notices, your lashes fluttering against your soft cheeks, the curve of your cheekbone brightened by the glow of the morning sun. 

He sees you turn to face him, round (e/c) eyes reaching his and making his throat run dry. He doesn’t look away, and his hearing is muffled until you nudge his shoulder harshly. Suddenly, the blare of car horns and your urgent voice registers. 

“Satoru!” you shout. “The light!”

He looks up and sees that it has turned green and the car in front of him is long gone. He snorts, immediately slamming into the gas and jerking the two of you into motion. “Whoops,” he grins, and you’re flicking his forehead. 

“Being in the car with you is a threat to my life, I swear,” you roll your eyes, turning to hide your flushed face.

“Wouldn’t you rather be with me than in a taxi?” 

“What do you think?”

Satoru chuckles. “Sucks for you then, because as long as I’m around you’re riding with me.”

“Gee, I’m so lucky,” you quip sarcastically.

“I know right?”

After a grueling fifteen minutes, you finally pull up to the sidewalk by the museum behind a row of cabs. Satoru puts the car in park and leans over you to look up at the building over his glasses. “Wow,” he comments. “You must be losing your shit over this, huh nerd?”

“Insult me all you want,” you say. “I’m having a great time here.”

“I’m sure you are,” he hums. Your eyes scan the steps to the MET swiftly before you spot Aoto to the left while Satoru examines the area curiously. 

“Oh! I see Aoto,” you announce, unbuckling your seatbelt and slinging your back over your shoulder. 

Satoru’s brows pinch together, his gaze attempting to follow yours to locate your research partner. “Where?”

You point out to the brunette dressed in a light button up and slacks, seemingly waiting for your arrival. “There,” you say. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Hold on,” he stops you, grabbing your arm gently to keep you from leaving just yet. You look at him with a strange expression.

“What is it now?”

“Well, it’d be rude of me not to introduce myself now that I’m here,” he says flatly.

“Why would you need to do that?”

“To be polite.”

“But he doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Exactly, hence introducing myself,” he says, looking at you blankly.

You don’t have the opportunity to stop him before he’s honking his horn, waving into the air aggressively and calling out to Aoto. Your eyes go wide and you turn to grip his extended arm to lower at, hissing at him to shut up, but it’s too late.

The commotion catches Aoto’s attention as well as the attention of many others. You watch the brunette turn into your direction, scrunching his face oddly before releasing it when he sees you next to the odd white haired man calling him over.

You panic when he heads your way, slapping at Satoru’s chest and knee. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you hiss, and he’s smirking evilly.

Aoto steps down and approaches your passenger door, ducking his head to look into the car. He looks at you first, smiling kindly as Satoru stares, observing intensely with a tight lipped smile. “Morning, (Y/n),” a laugh bubbles lightly in his words as you tighten your face with embarrassment and flash him a nervous smile, ripping your hands from Gojo’s body.

“Hi,” you greet shortly.

“I see you’ve found a better ride today,” he jokes, and Satoru can feel a muscle in his eye twitch at the sound of him being humorous with you a day after meeting. Aoto looks at Satoru, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “How’s it going?”

“Oh just great,” Satoru grins, his one hand still taut on the steering wheel. “You must be uhhh… Apollo?”

You crick your neck when Satoru purposely fumbles the brunette’s name to his face.

Aoto takes it well, chuckling softly. “Uh, close, it’s Aoto,” he smiles. “But people butcher it all the time,” he lies.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Satoru nods slowly. 

“(Y/n), this a friend of yours?”

You sigh. “Yeah, he’s just visiting-“

“Satoru Gojo,” your albino friend extends a hand over your lap into Aoto’s direction. Your research partner clasps it firmly, shaking with a friendly grip. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Likewise.” You notice Aoto move to tug his hand away, but Satoru holds on for a second longer, keeping his grip tight before letting him go. “That’s a hell of a handshake you got there.”

“Thank you,” Satoru grins. “So I hear you and (Y/n) are working together?”

“Sure are. We’re actually heading in soon to meet with a historian,” Aoto explains. “Your friend here is a really passionate girl. It’s already a pleasure to get to chat with her about all this stuff,” the older man compliments you, and you laugh bashfully. 

Gojo, however, does not find anything funny. His tight smile is frozen on his face as he watches Aoto look at you with what you would call a “friendly” gaze, but what Satoru knows as a look that reveals his hidden desire to have sex with you.

He can feel himself losing his cool, the very thought of you spending all day with this creep making him lose his mind.

You turn to look at Gojo oddly upon detecting a sudden foulness in his mood. 

“Funny, you got all that out of her in one day?” Satoru lifts his brows, glossy lips parted as he holds a finger to his chin as though he is completely indulged in what Aoto is saying. You don’t understand why he is all of a sudden behaving so rudely. He has no right, after all, since this is your sanctuary he insisted upon intruding.

“A day is generous. Maybe even less,” Aoto jokes in high spirits, and you try to laugh along with him, but the glare in Satoru’s eyes distracts you as he looks between you and your research partner repeatedly. 

“Well, gosh, luckily for me, I’ve known her for three years,” Satoru smiles, turning to look at you. “Isn’t that right?”

You give him a warning glare, to which he blatantly ignores and turns back to face your research partner. 

“She gets shy when I put her on the spot, but it’s true.”

“In that case, I’m sure you guys have a great friendship.”

“We really do.”

“Alright,” you jump in to cut the strange sense of strain in the air. “I think it’s about time we head in,” you say to Aoto.

He shrugs with a soft smile. “Sure, let’s go. Hey, nice meeting you Gojo,” he waves to the blue eyed pain in the ass next to you, and the said man grins.

“Take care, buddy.”

You are about to hop out of the vehicle to join Aoto when you pause. “Actually, Aoto, could you give us a minute? I think my chapstick fell out in here somewhere.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem. I’ll just be inside then.”

“Okay.”

You wait until Aoto is far enough to be out of earshot before whipping your head around and punching Satoru square in the shoulder. “Ow!” he yelps, rubbing the sore area, his uncivil facade fading. “That hurt!”

“What the hell was that, huh?” you ask through gritted teeth. “Why were you being so rude?”

“I wasn’t,” he exhales with irritation. “I was just scoping him out, no big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Satoru, because that’s the guy I’m working with! You know, for a real research opportunity?”

“Yeah, so you’ve said a hundred times already,” he remarks sassily. “It wasn’t that serious.”

“Nothing ever is to you, is it?” you growl, anger consuming your mind. Your thoughts of why you stepped away from Satoru in the first place instantly return, face flustering in embarrassment and heart pounding. 

Why did he always have to make a scene everywhere he went? Why does he have to constantly be the center of attention with no regard for how his behavior impacts anyone else?

Satoru looks at you with a slightly hurt and befuddled expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a child,” you huff, gathering your belongings into your lap with haste. Satoru grabs your arm again before you can leave for the second time.

“Woah, woah, woah, hold on,” he rushes out. “Did I actually piss you off just now?”

“Answer your own questions, Satoru, since you seem to know everything.”

A dent forms in the space between his brows as he peers down at you incredulously. “You’re getting this worked up over me messing with some random guy?”

“My research partner,” you clarify.

“Whatever! Why does it matter?”

“It matters because you don’t think it does! You only give meaning to the things you care about, and you knock everyone else down along the way. It’s exhausting!”

“How was I supposed to know that you’d care so much about what I say to him? You just met him yesterday.”

“You still don’t even get it,” you shake your head. “Why would you?”

“Why are you snapping at me, (Y/n)?” Satoru frowns. “I thought we were good. I thought I didn’t do anything to make you mad at me.”

“That was yesterday, Satoru. This is today.”

“And you’re this angry at me over something so small? Nothing built up to you blowing up on me like this?”

“Maybe I’m just sick of you being an asshole.”

You yank your arm away, throwing open the door and slamming it behind you. Satoru sits back, lips parted in shock, reeling at the rate at which you had grown upset with him. He feels his heart ache, unsure of why you care so much about one interaction he had with a guy neither of you knows. 

You’re right. He doesn’t understand. He can’t understand.

He can’t understand how this man gets to spend all of his time with you after you stripped your time away from Satoru forcefully, without even telling him why. You can’t understand why you defend Aoto, grow angry for him, resentful and hurtful. You called Satoru a child, you called him an asshole, you claimed that he didn’t care about how things affected others when all he cares about in this godforsaken world is you, and yet somehow, you’ve antagonized him and left him behind.

Where is your gratitude for the years he spent by your side ensuring that you weren’t lonely? Where is your gratitude for the tears he wiped away, shed for your isolation from an unloving family? Where is your gratitude for remembering all of your favorite foods, your likes, your dislikes, the things you are allergic to, the things you dream about attaining, your favorite animal, your favorite piece of clothing, your best and worst subjects in school, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, what makes your nose scrunch up in disgust and your eyes shine with enthusiasm?

Why are you so keen on shoving your memory of all he has been for you away? Why is it so easy for you to yell at him, to push you off of him, to glare at him, to dismiss him, to ghost him, when he knows there is no reality in this universe where he would be able to rip his eyes from your beautiful face for longer than one second? 

It didn’t take much for you to leave Satoru behind, and he mourns over you. He mourns over your presence and your love that he begins to question was ever there. He mourns your touch, your gaze, your affections, your praises. He mourns the thought of you leaning into him and accepting the lengths to which he would go for you, the planets he would conquer, the oceans he would swim, the beasts he would tame. 

Satoru would have given you his entire existence if you asked for it, but he mourns the notion that you would do the same as he realizes that you never will.

Instead, you choose Shoko over him. You choose Suguru over him. You choose an empty phone over him, a new country over him, and an older man over him. When Gojo would pick you in every universe he encounters within his dreams, you would cast him away for the chance of finding something better. 

You do not love him, and he understands now.

To you, he’s an asshole, a child, a careless man with no regard for the impact he has on the people he cares for. To you, he is his legacy, his privilege, his wealth, his pride, his family. You are everything to him, the stars, the sun, and the moon, but he is nothing to you but a burden.

That must be why you stopped talking to him, why you were practically mortified to see his face in New York. Suguru had been right though he didn’t want to accept it. You want space away from him, far away, and while chases you, you continue to outrun him, seeking another hand to hold. 

Satoru can feel himself growing cold, eyes angry and jaw taut. He doesn’t know why he tries so hard with you, or whether his blatant desire to keep you near has pushed you away further. He doesn’t know why, no matter how many times your voice and body tell him that you don’t want him around, he still follows you. He can’t bring himself to leave you the way you try to leave him, for you hold too much weight within his mind and bring him too much happiness. Christ, you’re one of his best friends, the only woman he has truly cared for beyond himself, and you give him nothing. Even so, he clings to you like you’re his last breath, surviving off of the ropes you throw and pull away as though he has no other option.

And to Satoru, there is no other option. You’re it. You’re everything. He can’t walk away, so why should you be able to? 

He pictures you with Aoto, his rugged stubbled face and dark eyes. He pictures you laugh alongside him, fingers brushing his elbow as you steady yourself on your feet. He pictures you watching him with enamored eyes as he drones on about art, about the things you like that Satoru has never comprehended but has learned for you. 

He pictures you hugging him, tucking your face against his chest as he pulls you close, his lips brushing your forehead as you thank him for this wonderful opportunity. He pictures you out at a grungy restaurant, sharing a meal in celebration of your remarkable intelligence, clinking glasses as your eyes meet in the haze of the candle lit space. 

He pictures you going home with him, falling into him, lips crushing together and hands wandering over bare skin, skin Satoru alone is meant to touch, to kiss, to cherish.

The white haired heir clenches his fists together, rage overcoming him at the tormented images flashing through his brain. You’ll probably leave him for this place one day, for this life, for this guy, throwing him behind as if he held no value to you. You’ll go again without telling him and Satoru will find out through a friend, too late for him to chase you into a new life. He imagines you happy without him, and his heart shatters. 

You, on the other hand, are fuming.

Why does Satoru have to be so obnoxious? Why can’t he let you breathe without him hovering over you, tracking you down just to make you angry again? 

What right does he have to treat a stranger as if he is beneath him? Someone who you happen to work with? Could he be any more pretentious?

Your blood is boiling as you picture him looking at you, then competing with a man that you hardly even know through the tone of his voice and his unwarranted possession of you. What gives him the right to treat you as though he owns you, grinning smugly at Aoto as though he could never amount to his image? 

You recall the nights you stayed up watching stories of Satoru with some random girl on your social media, his pretty face leaning into the camera as he sweet-talks the unassuming woman behind it with no intention of following through. You recall the times Satoru shoved profiles of girls who follow him into your faces, making remarks about how attractive they are before accepting their friend requests. You recall every time you have ended up sobbing in Suguru’s arms after a night of drinking, the dark haired boy himself blaming your emotions on the alcohol when in reality they were sparked by the sight of a girl grinding up against him in a club.

You replay all the instances Gojo has made you and hundreds of other women feel like a fool, and he has the audacity to challenge the poor guy you work with?

It’s unfair, all of it.

You’re supposed to be getting away from him, but instead, he’s here, just like he always forces himself to be. He’s invading your personal space, making judgments about other people, and all the while doing so and expecting not to be reprimanded. How much more inconsiderate could a person get?

You spend your entire day thinking about him, his face appearing in your head as you try to listen to the things the people around you are saying. You try your hardest to rid your mind of Satoru, but the task proves impossible. He’s like a plague, ailing your train of thought every chance he gets. 

Why can’t he just leave you alone? It was already enough that he had made you fall in love with him, so why couldn’t he give you space? Why is he always so close to you, lingering in every nook and cranny of your heart and soul?

By the time late afternoon rolls around, you and Aoto are done in the MET and you are given a list of artifacts to organize on a spreadsheet by the end of the day. You had not called Satoru to see where he was, and you almost think he isn’t showing up, but when you descend the museum stairs, you see him parked by the sidewalk with Suguru sitting passenger and Shoko in the back. 

You exhale slowly, preparing yourself for what is to come as you approach the car. “Hey, guys,” you greet with a wave, and your friends’ heads are turning except for Satoru, who leans his head back against the headrest and stares forward emptily. 

“How was your day?” Shoko asks as you climb into the back with her.

You shrug. “Good. Got some good work to do.” You look forward to finding Gojo’s dull eyes in the rearview mirror. He doesn’t move to greet or look at you, which you find unbearably unusual. “What about you guys?”

“Suguru and I actually saw a huge rat after we finished breakfast,” the young woman beside you snickers. “So he’s not in the greatest mood.”

“I need to get out of this fucking place,” you hear Suguru mutter and you laugh at his tone of dreadful severity as Satoru pulls out and starts driving.

“Hate to break it to you, Sugu, but your friend has other plans for you today,” you say, hardly addressing the man you are speaking about aside from a vague allusion to Suguru.

“Actually,” you hear Satoru speak up, and you look up at him to find his eyes on you through the mirror. He looks slightly perturbed, the usual bubbliness in his tone and playful glitter in his eye replaced by a flat indifference. “There’s been a change of plans.”

You keep his gaze for a moment, eying him skeptically. “Oh?” is all you muster up the energy to say.

“We’re going back now.”

“Back where?”

“To the villa.”

Your shoulders drop as you process his announcement. All of a sudden, he wants to leave?

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry though. You’re coming with.”

You perk up, eyes shooting wide. “Huh?”

“I think you heard me perfectly clear,” he says. “Your stuff’s already all packed and in the front with Suguru. We’re heading straight up there now.”

“How the hell did you get back into my house?”

“I saw the code you put into the keypad when we left.”

You perch yourself up, gripping the back of Geto’s seat and leaning to look over at Satoru’s face. “Are you crazy? I’m not coming up there! It’s too far! I have to stay here.”

“Calm down. Your computer’s packed and I’ll have you back in the city by tomorrow morning.”

You fume. “Satoru, why do you think you can just drag me around wherever you want me to go?”

“I don’t think that. I just think it would be unfair to our friends if we forced them to hang around the city any longer without an extra pair of clothes. I’m thinking ahead for everyone, ‘cause, you know, I try to be aware of how my actions impact others,” he quips with a straight face, refusing to spare you a glance once you’re staring directly at him and leaning over the console.

Your face darkens when those last few words leave his mouth. “Is this really how you’re choosing to react to this morning?”

“Like I told you before, (Y/n), not everything’s about you. I’m doing this for Shoko and Suguru. So just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

He turns the volume knob up on a random station, blasting music he doesn’t even listen to as he drives. You lean back into your seat feeling even more agitated than you had been earlier, crossing your arms.

“He didn’t tell you about this before?” Shoko asks you quietly, the blare of the radio overpowering her voice enough for the boys in the front not to hear. You throw your hands up and into your lap, preparing for a rant.

“No! Literally just this morning he was trying to make you guys stay here longer so we could walk around the city,” you fume, turning to complain to your friend. She shakes her head with an exasperated smile.

“Typical Satoru.”

“I just can’t with him sometimes, honestly,” you huff.

“What did he do this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re pissed, he’s pissed, you mentioned something that happened this morning,” she lists as though this is nothing new. “What did he do?”

“Am I really that obvious when I’m mad at him?”

“I mean, yeah, but Satoru even more so when he’s bothered,” she glances up at him. “He never gets upset with you, so it’s weird.”

“Now why the hell would he be upset with me? He’s the one constantly out of line,” you accuse quietly, turning to look at the streets passing you by. “Like- you can’t just take people wherever you want to go. It’s selfish.”

“Tell me what he did, girl,” Shoko repeats for a third time and you exhale.

“It was just this weird thing this morning. He wanted to meet my research partner and he made a whole scene.”

Shoko listens as she pulls out a lighter and a pack of almost finished cigarettes. “What kind of scene?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, he was just acting like a dick… like really… really…” you struggle to find the word.

“Territorial?”

You give Shoko a strange look, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Sort of.”

Ieiri shakes her head, flicking her match open to light the stick in her hand. “Figures.”

“I just wish for once he’d stop being so difficult.”

“I think you’re asking for the impossible,” Shoko cups her hands around the flame to block it from the wind. “Satoru will always be Satoru, and when you’re involved, he’s Satoru on Xanax.”

“Yeah, because he loves to piss me off.”

Shoko doesn’t respond, puffing smoke from her now lit cigarette as she ponders how you still can’t see what is so clearly standing right in front of you.

The car ride is silent for the most part, though not as long as you assumed it would be. After a few stops for gas and snacks, you finally make it to Long Island, the scent of sea breeze drifting through your nostrils and into the wild wind as you lean your head against the door, looking around you and observing the captivating scenery. 

You watch the large, expensive houses pass you by until you’re pulling into a secluded villa at the end of a row. You lift your head and look up in awe as Satoru pulls into the driveway. The home is obnoxiously large, trees shading the front porch and sun pouring richly through the overhead leaves. There’s two stories, but the house stretches so wide it looks as though it was built for a family of twelve. The exterior is mostly wood with tall window panes and a glass dome connecting two legs of the house sitting in the center, where the front door resides. Your jaw hangs open as everyone piles out of the car casually, as though a two hundred thousand dollar vacation home isn’t sitting right before their eyes.

Suguru grabs your light overnight bag and tosses it over to you, catching you by surprise once you step out the car and rush to clutch it to your chest. “Welcome to Satoru’s overcompensation,” Suguru smiles at you, and Satoru grumbles at him to shut up as he closes the door behind him.

Shoko skips around you, racing up to the front door. “I call dibs on the big shower!” she claims, disappearing into the house.

Geto sweatdrops, trudging in behind her. “All the showers here are big, Shoko.” 

The two leave you and Satoru alone as he rounds his car to grab your bag out of your arms wordlessly. His eyes, yet again, don’t meet yours. “I’ll show you to your room.”

You can feel your heart clench at his coldness, though frustration with him still bubbles, and you follow him into the house silently. Once you step through the glass doors, you see that the majority of the bottom level opens up to the back of the house, where a fresh cut lawn surrounds a crystal blue pool and lawn chairs. You stare baffled. The house is admittedly beautiful, but for Satoru to have splurged this much on a last minute trip is insane. 

He leads you upstairs and down a long hallway before nudging open a door to your right that you realize is your bedroom. Satoru lets you walk past him into the room first, and you examine the large space carefully, the window on the left, the small couch in front of the queen bed, the television, and the marble dressers. It’s a nice room, you admit to yourself.

Satoru walks in to put your bag down on your bed, then turns to walk out. “We’re going out at ten,” he says, moving to leave.

“Wait,” you stop him, and he stills. He turns around to face you, an almost pained yet bothered expression on his face. You don’t know what to say now that you have his attention. You only know that you’re confused, though still angry with him for earlier. You’re confused as to why you’re here with him, why he’s all of a sudden mad at you. You can see it written all over his face now that Shoko has brought it to your attention. “What was the point of taking me here?” you choose to ask him, a question simple enough, you think, to not rouse more tension.

But you’re wrong. 

“(Y/n),” he exhales. “I don’t know what to tell you if you can’t comprehend the fact that we just want to spend time with you.”

You swallow hard. He is mad. But why? You’re the one who’s supposed to be mad, not him. “Okay, but you’re not understanding where I’m coming from at all. Randomly making me do things without asking first sparks a few questions, don’t you think?”

“Okay then,” he nods. “What would you have said if I asked you?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know.”

“Be honest,” he demands sternly, and you look him in the eye when you answer.

“Probably… no, Satoru.”

“Exactly. So why ask if you’re just gonna turn me down again like you have been for weeks?” You feel your heart sink. You don’t like this feeling, though you know it’s partially your fault you’re in this situation.

“Didn’t we already talk about this last night?”

“I don’t think we’ve talked about it enough, but you don’t really wanna explain yourself, so I’m letting it go and making an executive decision for everyone.”

“Everyone?” you repeat.

He stares at you a moment, perturbed. “Yes,” he fibs, and you know he is. “If you have any more complaints about how I approach our relationship, take it up with the others,” he says, turning back around. “I won’t keep putting myself in a position where I have to defend myself caring about you.”

He’s gone within a second after that, swiftly leaving your room as if he was never there. You stand in the door, watching the entrance speechlessly. 

You don’t know why Satoru’s behavior toward you is completely throwing you off, for if you’re mad at him, it really shouldn’t matter if he’s mad at you, right? But you have never seen him look at you so tiredly, speak to you with such agitation in his eyes and his tone. With you, he’s normally always bright, playful, loud, and obnoxious but in an endearing way. This tone he’s taking with you now is void of all that glee, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it’s making you anxious and, dare you say, hurting your feelings.

You know you’re being unfair because you’re normally always the one upset with Satoru and not the other way around. You know that he’s a human being and has a right to whatever he feels, despite the fact that you were angry with him this morning, but that doesn’t make this feel any less strange, like the world is being thrown off kilter. Despite your initial frustrations with him, you’re beginning to miss his smile, miss the way he follows you, the way he pesters you, the very same things you always claimed drove you insane. 

Have you been taking advantage of him all this time, overlooking the life that he has always brought to your own? Are you the selfish one, though you have always accused Satoru of being self-centered? 

And those words he had said earlier… I won’t keep putting myself in a position where I have to defend myself caring about you.”

All this time, all the pranks and the harassing, the constant texts and the frequent company, had he been just caring about you instead of trying to make you angry? Instead of trying to get a rise out of you?

You don’t understand. You don’t understand anything anymore. 

You’re drowning in your thoughts, head submerging into an ocean of memories replaying constantly in your head. You somehow end up on the second floor balcony, peering straight ahead of you. The awareness of Satoru lounging on a beach chair and Shoko laying in the pool on a float below you remains in the back of your head, but you’re not fully paying attention. You can’t stop thinking about Satoru, about your friendship, about how you thought it would be best to push him away, about how he looked at you with aching eyes at the thought of you turning away from him again.

Had you messed up? 

You’re deep in a trance when Suguru stalks up behind you quietly. He saw your figure standing alone on the balcony as he walked by and decided to accompany you. When he comes into your line of sight to stand beside you, you jump, glancing at him then relaxing when you see the dark haired man smiling gently at you. “Hey,” he greets you casually. You notice that his hair is down and damp and his clothes are fresh, likely having just gotten out of the shower. 

You exhale slowly. “Hey,” you say, turning back to face forward. Suguru can immediately sense that your mind isn’t all there as he leans against the glass railing and observes your body language. He then glances down below him to find Satoru glaring ahead, eyes shaded by his glasses as he sucks harshly at the straw of his lemonade.

Suguru understands immediately.

“How’re you holding up?” the hazel eyed student asks. “You know, after being dragged here and all.”

“Feeling like I should be working.”

“Why aren’t you?”

You shrug, angling your brows. “I don’t know, I can’t focus,” you say. 

“Is it because of the house?” he looks around. “It can be a bit much.”

“Actually, no,” you tell him honestly. “I wish I could, but I don’t hate it here. It’s nice.”

“Uh oh. Satoru’s finally gotten to you,” Suguru chuckles and you look over at him, slightly panicked.

“What makes you say that?”

Geto’s eyes meet yours and he lifts a brow. “The house. He’s got you liking his expensive taste.”

“Oh,” you mutter in relief. “I guess. A nice place is a nice place.”

He hums, looking forward into the direction you had been staring off in. The two of you stand beside each other silently for a moment, watching the sun ease its way behind the trees, when Suguru speaks up once more. “(Y/n)?”

“Hm?”

“I have a question for you.”

You turn and grimace. “Anytime you say that, I get scared.”

Suguru laughs, a refreshing, genuine sound. “How come?”

“You always ask the most intimidating things.”

“Do I?” he tugs his lips in an amused smile. “I guess you won’t like what I have to ask you then.”

“Just get it over with already,” you groan.

“Alright…” he pauses, scanning his eyes over your face as he tries to find the best way to approach. “Why’d you stop talking to Satoru?”

You knew it was coming. How could you not, when you and Satoru are behaving so strangely? You sigh loudly again, hanging your head low. “I knew it.”

“It’s really not that crazy of a question,” he says smugly and you push at his shoulder. 

“Please, you know what you’re doing,” you roll your eyes and he chuckles.

“Do I? I’m only asking.”

“Whatever,” you huff, rubbing your temple in exasperation.

“Well?”

You’re mute for a moment, trying to determine what you want to say or how to respond. Suguru has always been very good at detecting when people are lying to him or not, and you know that if you lie to him, you will only be making the situation more painful for yourself. And by the way the dark haired man is looking at you now, you have a feeling he already knows the answer.

“...Why do you think I stopped talking to him?”

“I know what I think, (Y/n), but if I’m wrong, then I’m wrong.”

You look at him, your eyes telling a story that Suguru has read far too many times over. He hums in understanding, looking back down at Satoru. 

“Doesn’t seem like I am though,” he says and you slump, burying your face in your hands.

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I just-” you stop, unsure of where your mind is directing the words that are coming out of your mouth. “I just thought that… it would be best if I took some time away.”

“Best for who?”

“For me?” you answer though you aren’t sure. “I don’t know!” you exclaim again. “It was hard enough just having him around and letting him make a fool out of me.”

“Huh?” Suguru makes a baffled face. “Making a fool out of you? How?”

“Look at him,” you hiss. “Look at this place, look at the money he spends, the attention he gets, the life he lives! I’m nothing compared to that and he knows it.”

“Your difference in societal standings is hardly something that Satoru would ever care about.”

“Maybe not, but it’s a blaring difference between our lives and how we approach things,” you explain. “I had to fight to get here. He just snaps his fingers and it’s done, and because of that, he behaves like he can do anything he wants. In some ways he can, but he shouldn’t be able to when it comes to his friends. Not when it comes to me,” you emphasize. “You see what he does, you’re his best friend. He makes things happen the way he wants and pulls everyone along with him, not caring about whether you want to go with him or not.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

His eyes grow intense as he studies you. “Do you want to go with him?”

“I-” you part your lips because you think you can answer easily, but you surprise yourself when you don’t. You frown, suddenly feeling rather pathetic. “Who wouldn’t want to go with Satoru Gojo wherever he takes you? It’s better than him leaving you behind.”

“But, (Y/n),” Suguru begins adamantly. “Satoru has never once left any of us behind. That’s why we’re here. He could’ve hauled his own ass to America, but instead he forced us along with him. And while it can be irritating, it’s kinda nice to know that he wants to share his privilege with the people he cares about.

“Satoru may be a lot of things. He’s impulsive, he’s clingy, he’s dramatic, but he’s not uncaring. You can’t categorize him as that just because he’s different,” Geto says wisely, and another wave of shame washes over you when you realize that he’s right. It’s just easier for you to call Satoru inconsiderate when he can’t see how helplessly in love you are with him. “And I’m sorry if this is blunt, but if we’re talking about leaving people behind… you kinda did that to him.”

“Because I thought it was the right thing to do,” you urged. “I thought that if I stepped away, I wouldn’t have to face my…”

“Your feelings,” Geto concludes, and you flush as your lips and brows curl in discomfort.

“I couldn’t stand it,” you whisper. “I still can’t stand it… watching him, watching the way girls glue themselves to him, watching the way he just tosses them aside without caring… I’m horrified that he’d only do the same to me if he knew, and I can’t stand it.”

“You wanna know why Satoru doesn’t pay any of those girls any mind and leads them on?”

“No,” you tighten your lips.

“Come on, it’s the same reason why he snatched the chance to show his face to your research partner earlier with so much to say. It’s the reason why he can’t help but try to follow you wherever you go, and when he can’t, he finds a way.”

You stare at Geto with hard eyes, eager yet perplexed. “I still don’t get it.”

“You’re hopeless. Both of you are,” Suguru sighs. “Either way, whatever’s going on between you two needs to get fixed. Immediately.”

“But, Suguru, I don’t know how to just be friends with him anymore without getting mad or- or letting these feelings get in the way,” you say desperately. “I don’t know how to be around him anymore.”

“Let me pose it this way. Do you want to be around him?”

“Do you seriously expect me to answer that?”

“Yes.”

You close your eyes, heart pounding hardly in your ears. “Of course I want to be around him…” you admit under your breath in embarrassment. “That was never the problem. It was that it hurt to be around him without him knowing about how I feel.”

“Then tell him.”

“Oh, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

“I’m being serious, (Y/n),” Suguru groans. “You need to tell him.”

“I can’t do that, Suguru, it would ruin everything.”

“That’s what you’re afraid will happen. You don’t know what will actually happen.”

“I know enough,” you cut him off. “I know enough about Satoru to know that if I tell him everything, he’ll use it against me or take it as a joke. I’ve seen it. So many girls confess to him, he’s become numb to it by now.”

“Those are other girls. Not you.”

“What makes me any different?”

“More than you know. Trust me,” he says sternly. “So just tell him. Right now, I'm pretty sure he thinks you hate him. Especially after everything with you coming here after ghosting him, and I’m sure your fight this morning didn’t help.”

“Hold on, how did you even know about that?”

“Satoru’s got a big mouth.” Though you know Gojo didn’t tell Shoko, you don’t know why you’re surprised that he blabbered to his best friend about this morning’s incident. “And a big heart too.”

“...Suguru, I’m scared. If I confessed to Satoru and he…” you trail off, images of Satoru laughing at you, telling you that he’s known all along, that he’s been taking pity on you floods your mind and you're consumed with fear. Fear of his rejection, fear of his indifference, fear of his mocking. You love him too much to endure that if that’s too happen. “I couldn’t handle it.”

“You’ve got it really bad, don’t you?” Suguru observes and you grit your teeth together in reaction to his blunt address of your love, something you don’t want to acknowledge as overpowering enough to be the way Suguru defines bad. “I pray for you.”

“Gee thanks.”

He laughs softly, leaning his head on his palm. “You’ve gotta stop letting fear drive your actions,” he looks at you gently. “Fear didn’t get you to college without the help of your parents, and it didn’t get you here to America. What could fear possibly get you now with Satoru?”

You know that Geto is right, as he always is. You can tell he only has your best interest at heart, his words carrying both friendly endearment and foresight. You always admired that about him, the way he carries such understanding and knowledge in his advice. “I’ll think about it,” you tell him, and that is all he wants to hear.

“Good. Because I’m getting kind of tired of suffering on behalf of you two,” he jokes. “I thought I was losing a friend because you can’t process your emotions.”

You gape at Suguru’s innocent smile. “Can you leave me and my coping mechanisms alone?” 

“I don’t think I will,” he decides matter-of-factly. “I’m sure you’ve heard enough of this, but we really have missed you. The past month hasn’t been the same without you around.”

“Are you getting all sappy with me, Suguru?” you tease, and he shrugs. 

“Just being honest.”

“When are you not?” you say. “I really didn’t mean to put a wall up in front of you guys. I got kinda swept up in everything I was feeling, I didn’t even notice I was being so isolated until I was already too deep in.”

Suguru leans over to place his hand atop your head consolingly. “It’s okay, (Y/n). Shoko and I understand.”

“I know, but I won’t do that to you guys again. I’ll try to get a handle on things before they can get any worse.”

He smiles down at you again kindly. “We’re here for support when you do.”

Below, Satoru is painfully aware of the two of you talking, standing close beside each other and smiling. The blue eyed man broods, for you treat Suguru with the kindness that you should have been treating him with. He tries to concentrate on something else, anything else, but the lull murmur of your voice and Suguru’s drifts into the air and into his thoughts, taunting him.